The Price of Love
by trs0010
Summary: Orphan Kathleen was sent to the North by her remaining family's wishes in hopes to brighten the child's spirits. With her yearly visits soon ended, Kathleen returns to Winterfell, within her family's company, for the first time in four years as she reunites with the Starks, but the game of thrones has begun. Kathleen must now decide between family and love with no victory in sight.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, gazed upon the grounds of his ancestral home as he basked in the crisp afternoon air accustomed of summers in the North.

The grounds filled with the sound of wood striking wood, followed by a chorus of childish taunts and giggles. The high lord could not hide the smile that touched his lips as he gazed upon the sight below him from his perch on the archway above.

Under the watchful eye of master-at-arms Ser Rodrik Cassel, his eldest son and heir to Winterfell, Robb, was in the midst of a "duel." A frustrated Ser Rodrik would often shout instructions as the battle with wooden weapons intensified, but his training fell on deaf ears.

In any other situation, Lord Eddard knew Robb would take heed to Ser Rodrik's wisdom. Despite being just a boy of twelve years, Robb took to his training easily and hungrily. The young lad was maturing fast into the Lord he was destined to be.

But today was a different type of battle. It was not his heir learning to wield a sword that he would one day used command armies. Today he was a twelve-year-old battling for his pride. Today he was truly a child.

Robb had one supporter in his corner - Theon of House Greyjoy. Lord Eddard had taken Theon hostage after Lord Balon Greyjoy's failed rebellion against the King of Westeros, Robert Baratheon.

Theon served as Lord Eddard's ward and was close to all of his children, especially to Robb. That rang true today as Theon taunted Robb's opponent and cheer on the young Stark when his blows connected.

Robb's opponent was not without a supporter. Jon Snow took the side against his half-brother. Snow, the bastard name of the North, was a reminder of Jon's heritage and the bane of Eddard's honor.

He cared and treated Jon as if he were a trueborn son. Jon even held more the appearance of a Stark than his brothers. Robb had the fair coloring of the Tullys of Riverun, his mother's family, where Jon had the dark features characteristic of the Starks.

It was Robb's opponent that warmed Lord Eddard's heart and brought a laugh to his lips.

She was a sight to be seen, at times almost a wild as those that live beyond the Wall.

Her raven black hair was long and tangled from running and playing amongst the grounds of Winterfell.

Her cherub face fitting for a child was covered in mud and scratches and faint bruises, matching the faded green dress she wore that was tattered and stained.

Her brilliant green eyes, a striking trait from her father's side of the family, shone bright and fierce with intensity as she matched Robb's attacks.

Though Robb's age, she was much smaller. He was powerful and pushed her back with each blow from his wooden sword, but she would not give up. Her speed played to her advantage, as she was able to whirl around hits and give solid slaps to Robb's knees.

Fierce as her uncle, Lord Eddard thought, and as proud as her aunt for neither the young warrior princess or his son wanted to lose this "battle."

Lord Eddard tightened his cloak. The chill in the air was fierce and a late summer snow would soon be falling. The dueling children in the yard were drenched in a light sweat that betrayed the nature of the weather for Lord Eddard knew that the summer was waning fast.

 _Winter is Coming._

With that thought, he knew the summer children he saw playing in the yard did not know what the darkness of winter welcomed to the realm.

With their musical laughter cutting the air, he did not have the heart to break their summer dreams and warn them of the winter that was rising swiftly.

No. Not today, but soon. They must be ready. The long warm season only forewarns for an even longer and crueler winter.

"Why is she not with Sansa practicing her stitching with Septa Mordane?" a voice called behind him and interrupted his fears of the winter to come.

His wife Lady Catelyn Stark soon joined him as she surveyed the scene below with a knowing look she often gave when the young warrior was in her presence.

Her gaze faltered as she looked upon the Jon Snow. Catelyn did not hide her feelings for the bastard. She wrapped her hands around her swelled stomach. A new young Stark would soon be born to Winterfell.

"She was," Lord Eddard commented, "but you know as well as I, she is cunning as a fox and never stays for long."

"She is too smart for her own good," Catelyn said with her smile returning as she watched the battle play out. "She is a fitting challenge for Robb."

Lord Eddard knew his wife was not speaking of being just a good challenge for his eldest son on the battlefield alone. It would not be many more years before Robb would be of age and a marriage would be arranged.

Catelyn had her eye on the young girl since she first visited Winterfell seven years ago. Long before she was untamable and ferocious as one of the boys.

In those days, she was a timid and quiet child, but it did not take the Stark boys long to break her shell.

She and Robb grew up together and were as thick as thieves. It seemed to Catelyn it was inevitable for the two to be wed one day. Though still young, a fitting match they did seem to make. For everything Robb, was not, she was. Highborn with ties to two of the most powerful families within the kingdom, he supposed no finer match could be made for his son.

"She belongs here," Catelyn finished when Lord Eddard did not reply for he was still trapped in his musing. "King's Landing is no longer her home. You know that as well as I."

"But at the end of the day, it is my lady," Lord Eddard said gravely. "A raven from King's Landing came this morning. Ser Jaime Lannister rides to Winterfell to return her to her family. The little one's yearly visit soon comes to an end."

"The Kingslayer," Catelyn spat. "The boys will be heartbroken when they hear the news, and so will she."

Catelyn ended with a tone heavy with sadness that matched her lord husband's. Over the years, it seemed harder and harder for the Starks, especially the Stark children, to bid farewell to the young girl. She was much a part of the Stark family as any of those that bore the name.

Though as wild as the wind, Catelyn had come to see the girl as her own daughter through the years as the child spent months at a time in Winterfell with the Starks.

Before the birth of Sansa, the girl was the only daughter Catelyn had come to know and love. Catelyn and Eddard had practically raised the child more than her own family had.

Though Catelyn had disapproved of the decision at the time of her first visit, she felt the young girl needed her own flesh and blood more than ever, she was grateful the gods had brought her into her family's life for she had seen the joy her friendship brought to Robb.

"I believe it is best to not spoil their last days together," Lord Eddard spoke as the laughter below grew louder. "The Kingslayer will not be here tomorrow. Gods know I do not want to exchange their laughter for tears."

"Tears only last so long. She will not be gone long before she is back in our midst again," Catelyn countered.

"I wish that were true, my love," Eddard spoke. His face revealed that more bitter news would follow and crushed Catelyn's want to see the light in the situation. "It seems this will be her last visit. She is much too wild for the likes of her family. She will be twelve on her name day and is over due to learn the ways of the court and to be a proper lady of the South."

"Her cousins are also of suitable age to be companions," Lord Eddard continued when his wife did not answer. He could she the anger rushing to her face and the protectiveness she felt towards the girl boiling.

Losing her would be like losing one of their own for both of them, though Lord Eddard knew this day would come.

"It is time, Cat. We knew this was not permanent."

"But wild?" Catelyn responded heatedly.

She took offense that the child's family thought she had become wild since spending her days with the boys in the North. It was an insult to the Starks and the North. "She is just a child. She is meant to be a tad unruly."

As if on cue, the young girl decided to display the hint of the wildness that her family mentioned and wished to squash.

During the childish taunts of battle, Theon Greyjoy and Jon Snow were swapping chides about the champions they backed in the duel. During the war of words, Theon slighted Jon by calling the boy a bastard, as he often did, yet Theon made a costly mistake by using the term in front of the dueling lady.

She was fiercely loyal to all of the Stark children she had befriended throughout her time at Winterfell, but Lord Eddard could not deny the special bond she had with Jon Snow. A bond that only an orphan and a bastard could forge for they understand each other in ways no one else could possible grasps.

She protected Jon as if he were her own brother. Lord Eddard's affection grew deeper for the young one as he witness the love she had for all his children, but especially that of the boy that was unwanted by other members of his family.

She put her affection for Jon Snow on display as she dropped her wooden sword in mid-swing as the word "bastard" reached her ears. She instantly turned her wrath on the young Greyjoy. Lord Eddard could not hear the words she spoke to his ward for her voice that was once loudly calling out taunts to his eldest son fell deathly silent.

Before Theon could retaliate with words of his own, she had balled up her fist and threw a punch that connected soundly with his nose.

With her scrawny arms, the hit could not have packed much force, but the shock of the blow placed Theon on his back much to laughter of both Jon and Robb. Even from high above, Lord Eddard spotted a tiny trail of blood leaving his ward's nose.

Ser Rodrick already turned on the girl with scolds so loud all of Winterfell would be able to hear the invoke punishment for her outburst.

Lady Catelyn release a gasp after witnessing the scene below and her face flushed a light shade of pink of embarrassment from just defending the girl moments ago.

"She is just a child," Lord Eddard teased. "She is meant to be unruly."

A sly smile touched his features as he repeated his wife statement with a shake of his head.

"He is a horrible influence," Catelyn muttered darkly. Lord Eddard did not have to venture a guess that the reference was meant for Jon. "You need to punish them all for this outburst."

"I believe she handled Theon's punishment," Lord Eddard quietly joked. "I do not believe the boys will let him forget this for quite some time. As for her, Ser Rodrick has it under control."

After a stern talking, the master-at-arms was using a nearby twig to strike the girl firmly on her outstretched hands as punishment. If she planned to fight like a boy, she would receive punishment like a boy. The several strikes left small marks on her hands and sliced the skin once or twice as red blood welled up on her porcelain skin.

Lord Eddard mused it would be another scar to go with countless other marks, bruises and scabs the girl accumulated during her time in Winterfell.

If she wanted to cry, she dared not let a tear fall. Not in front of the boys, she would not dare. Her pride was much too large, and she would not give them the satisfaction that she was weaker.

"She reminds me much of my sister," Lord Eddard whispered quietly as he remembered ghosts of his past.

"All the more reason she is meant to be a Stark," Lady Catelyn countered. "Don't let them take her Ned."

"They are her family," Lord Eddard replied defeated. "We cannot deny them their own blood."

"Robb will be devastated," Catelyn's motherly concerns cried as she thought of her eldest son losing one of his closest friends.

"It will do him well," Lord Eddard commented. "He needs to grow strong to lead. This may well be the course that sees him grow into a man, and the gods only know what she will grow into if she stays running wild in the North. If she is to one day be the Lady of Winterfell, she needs her aunt's graces and charm. I know the little lion; she will find her way back. She always does."

Catelyn's smile found her lips once more. She watched the young girl picked up her sword once again before smacking Robb on the back and bulleting through the grounds with him hot on her heels. Ser Rodrick continued shouting after the children as if the short break in action never occurred.

Her lord husband was right. She would grace Winterfell with her presence again. She was too stubborn and determined. She would find a way back to the Starks.

"She will be the death of him someday," she joked as she smiled sweetly at the two children chasing each other as if nothing else in the world ever mattered.

Lord Eddard matched her gaze with a smile of his own.

"There are worse ways to die."


	2. A Change in Plan

_Chapter I: Change in Plan_

He found the door to her chambers, one of the smaller rooms within the Red Keep, but elaborate nonetheless, for the Keep is home to the King of the Andals.

He did not have to open the door to her chambers to know the windows were open to allow the late afternoon heat to fill the room.

When he did quietly open the door as to not to disturb her, he found her in the back corner of the chamber where she was gazing at her reflection intently in a looking glass he knew once belonged to her mother.

King's Landing suited her since she became a permanent resident at the capital after her visits to the North were suspended.

Her once porcelain skin now shown with a light glow from the heat of the South.

She had grown taller as well though she still looked as tall as the Imp when she stood near him. Her womanly figure had developed with curves that had not gone unnoticed by the young lords that visited King's Landing.

Her fingers worked meticulously within her thick, waist-length, raven hair, which glistened almost red when the sun hit it just right, as she weaved an intricate braid that no doubt one of her handmaidens had shown her.

The handmaiden easily could have done the braid herself if she was present, but he knew the young lady was too stubborn for her own good and often preferred to do things herself than ever admit that she needed help.

Her bright green eyes studied her finished product.

She dressed in an outfit of her creation. The high collar, sleeveless number clung tightly to her waist with just enough of cut down her chest to hint at what was underneath.

Backless as well, the linen draped around her elegantly, but he knew it was no dress and when she turned around the faux dress would fade away to show loose trousers underneath.

She was not as skilled with a needle as others, but she was decent. She was able to craft the first outfit of this design as a pattern for her much more gifted handmaiden, who had expanded her closet with delicately embroidered numbers of varying colors.

She often said her handmaiden could earn her weight in gold with her stitches, and the black ensemble etched in gold designs displayed her handy work. The lone decoration she allowed herself was a golden belt with a lion's head that hung loosely around her hips.

Her aunt highly disapproved whenever she wore her trousers suit over one of the many dresses in her closet. She would chastise her niece for a lady should not be parading around in such a getup, especially a high-born noblewoman.

She argued that the loose linen was more practical in the heat of the South than a corseted dress with more skirts underneath than people living in Flea Bottom.

She also argued that it was much more practical for her other exercise that her aunt thoroughly disapproved. She and her uncle kept it as hidden as possible, but everyone knew of her training. No one chose to speak of it, and he could see the light muscles forming where the fabric clutch to her skin. The training was paying off in more ways than one.

She compromised by wearing dresses that received her aunt's approval when she attended court. In exchange, her dear aunt kept her snide comments about training to a minimum.

The black fabric of her outfit, the color of mourning was what caught his attention and brought him back to the present.

Jon Arryn, the Lord of the Vale, Warden of the East and Hand of the King had passed. He knew she was not close to Lord Arryn, but he treated her kind. She was distraught to hear the news of his death.

The King and the majority of his court were making preparations to travel to Winterfell to appoint Lord Eddard Stark as the new Hand of the King if the Warden of the North accepted the post.

The Red Keep was frantic with noise as trunks were packed and loaded, food stored and other last minute preparations hastily completed. The party was set to make the trek to the North at dawn.

That was why he was here.

"I often think my dear sister is back amongst the living," he said with a hint of sadness touching his features. "You look more and more like her every day."

"Uncle Renly!" she shouted with glee. "I thought I would not see you before you traveled to Winterfell."

She rushed to his side and engulfed Renly Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, into a warm hug.

"I wished I could remember her," she spoke once she released her uncle from her grip, commenting on his earlier statement.

"Rebecca was as fierce and stubborn as Stannis, but thank the gods they were not identical twins," Renly joked on behalf of his elder brother. "The Others would build a wall of her own if we had two of his mug running around the Seven Kingdoms."

Kathleen joined his laughter with her melodic giggle.

"She loved you deeply, child," he spoke with more seriousness to his tone. His niece did not often ask or talk about the mother she never knew, the mother that gave her life to bring her into this world.

"Every minute of the day, your name was on her lips," He smiled, as he drifted away in memories. "She would yap anyone's ear off about you if they gave her an opportunity."

"Her proudest moment was bringing you into this world, holding you for what little time she had. No one could ever love something as much as she loved her little Kat."

Kathleen felt the warm tears forming as heard her uncle's words and thought of the love of her mother that she would never know. She often felt a fringe of guilt as she thought of her for Rebecca Baratheon would be in this world today if not for her.

"No more talk of ghosts," Renly finished as he tenderly squeezed her shoulder. There was no time to waste. "You need to start packing."

"Packing?" Kathleen asked in confusion. "Aunt Cersei thought it best if I were to remain behind."

Kathleen was ecstatic to hear the news that King Robert was to travel to Winterfell to extend the offer of Hand to the King to Lord Stark.

The Starks were as much as her family as her blood, even more so in certain cases.

She often sent ravens to Winterfell with letters to the Stark children to stay in touch with her dear friends, but she missed the North terribly.

When she heard her Aunt Cersei and cousins would be traveling with Robert, she had no doubt that she would also be allowed to move with the company, but Cersei ruled against her, and Robert prefer to avoid conflict with his wife.

"Aye, she did," Renly spoke with a sly smile. "I talked with my dear brother, and I am remaining behind. Someone has to run the damn kingdom while your uncle is drinking himself into an early grave. My place in the company is now vacant. I appointed you."

The smile that spread across her face was worth all the riches in the Iron Bank, and Reny matched her excitement with a smile of her own as he watched her spin in a circle and thank the gods for the change in luck.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She shouted with glee as she showered her uncle with kisses on the cheeks.

"You best hurry up, princess," he smiled as he pushed her towards her trunk. "Dawn will be here before you know it."

Kathleen smiled and rolled her eyes at the pet name Renly bestowed upon her long ago. She was not a princess by any means. She did not have that title like her cousin Myrcella, but ever acting the part of a tomboy growing up, absolutely despised when her uncle called her by the name.

It had stuck through the years, as she grew into the beauty and grace to rival any princess and it became an affectionate pet name shared between the two

"Do save room in the trunk for this."

Renly reached out into the hallway for a package that he had left just outside the door.

Once her father passed, the men in her family took it upon themselves to fill the void, especially after experiencing guilt over sending her to the North so soon after and then stripping her away from her new-found family in the Starks.

Kathleen took the large package and set it gently on her bed before tearing away at the wrapping.

"Renly…" she whispered in awe.

It was the most stunning dress she had ever seen. The gray off-the-shoulder gown made of thick velvet suited the Northern weather.

The corseted top would show off her newfound figure. She ran her fingers across the fabric of the sleeves. It melted through her fingers.

Snowflakes were sewn into the dress with a small crystal in the middle of each that sparkled when hit by the sun. She even noticed dire wolves within the needlework throughout.

"It's gorgeous," she managed as she appreciated the garment. "I can't."

"You can, and you will!" he protested. "The Lady of Winterfell must fit the part. Robb Stark will follow you around like a lost pup when he sees you in this."

He winked as she turned a fabulous shade of pink.

"He has made his intent known to Lord Stark," she dreamily spoke as she gazed out the window to a land far out of reach. "He said his father would ask uncle Robert once we reach Winterfell. Do you think Lord Stark will ask like Robb says?"

Renly had known faster than anyone that Kathleen was head over heels for the eldest Stark child. He noted it sooner than Kathleen knew herself.

When she returned from her yearly visits to the North, all she would speak of was her dislike for the boy, but that was before she grew to find interest in the opposite sex.

As she grew, she continued to speak of Robb, but the hatred turned into a friendship. It was only after her visits to Winterfell terminated that her feelings grew even more. She was heartbroken without him.

The two exchanged love letters sent through ravens where decelerations and promises made. She kept the letters hidden from everyone save Renly, though everyone within the Red Keep knew of her long-distance affair.

Renly knew just how much she cared for Robb Stark, for all the Starks for that matter. The thought of being bound to him forever was the deepest wish her heart could ever desire, the innocence of young love.

"Lord Stark could not ask for a better match for his son," Renly offered to ease the worries of his niece. "He would be a fool not to ask, and Robert would be a fool to deny him."

"Picture Cersei's face when she hears the news," Kathleen giggled. "Kathleen Lannister to marry a Stark."

"It may send her to her grave, so all the more reason for Robert to agree to the marriage," Renly continued to poke fun of the Queen.

"What if he doesn't approve of me?" Kathleen meekly asked as the doubts crept back into her heart. "We have not seen each other since we were children. I may not be what he expects."

"Princess, that Stark boy will melt the Wall himself once he lays eyes on you," he laughed. "If not, Robert will throttle the boy himself if he denies you."

She gently picked up the dress Renly had made of her as if it would shatter like glass if held the wrong way and placed into safely within her trunk.

"Will she have approved?" she asked.

Renly knew who she was without needing a name. Kathleen did not have a mother to prepare her to be a proper lady, to plan a wedding or being a life as a wife and eventually a mother. Her aunt Cersei served as her adoptive mother until her children were born, and then Kathleen became a nuisance.

"Your mom would not think he is good enough for you," Renly said as he watched his niece pace back and forth around the room, grabbing clothes, books, parchment and anything else she might need on the trip, "but she would not think anyone would be good enough for her daughter. All she ever wanted was your health and your happiness. If she could see you now and hear you talk about Stark, she could not deny him your hand."

Kathleen smiled up at her uncle for his kind words and returned to her work while humming a tune.

"Shall I send a raven to your lover boy to inform him that you shall now be gracing him with your presence," he called over his shoulder as he made his exit.

"Believe it best to leave this as a surprise," she said with mischief in his eyes.

"May the gods bless Robb Stark for he knows not what he is getting into," Renly replied with laughter in his voice.

"I'm forever in your debt, uncle," she called, as he was about to close the door to leave her to the rest of her last-minute packing. "I love you the dearest, and you are without a doubt my favorite."

"That is until Jaime has a new sword welded for you, you charming little snake," he countered as he closed the door.

She rolled her eyes at the closed door as she continued to dance around her chambers collecting jewelry, clothing and cloaks to prepare for her journey.

"Kathleen Stark," she whispered as her fingers lightly traced a dire wolf sewn into her new dress. She enjoyed the way it rolled off her lips.


	3. Last Minute Preparations

_Chapter II: Last Minute Preparations_

Within the walls of Winterfell, the buzz of the impending arrival of the royal party had reached a fever pitch.

Preparations were in the midst to account for the numerous guests expected to arrive with the king's party. Rumors spread that half of the capital was traveling with King Robert Baratheon.

Rooms were made up with fresh linens and thick furs. Extra help from cooks to handmaidens to servants were hired for the occasion and carefully instructed on their duties and the proper courtesies expected by the royal family.

The ovens in the kitchen lit as the groundwork began on the feast held in the King's honor. Maester Aemon kept an ever-watchful eye on the storeroom as it slowly depleted little by little to satisfy Robert's legendary taste.

Dutiful to his job, he already began the calculations of how much the royal visit would cost Winterfell.

The grounds matched the excitement brewing within the walls. Lord Eddard Stark's guards lined the wall with eyes locked on the horizon, waiting for the moment to announce the arrival of King Robert and escort the royal party safely to Winterfell.

The stables were readied to house the influx of horses. All the clatter and the noise and shouts and orders bellowed out were deafening.

All the buzz spilled over the walls of the castle. It had been years since the Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms ventured to Winterfell. Inns and shops readied for those that join the party along the way for just a glimpse of the King. Even the brothels were packed to the brim with young maidens to please the southern lords with their Northern ways.

Lady Catelyn oversaw the work. The Lady of Winterfell must ensure her guests comfortably housed, and all needs filled.

Her primary responsibility was her children. The Stark crew was expected to be on their best behavior. Not a hair should be out of place or a stain on any garment. The Stark children had to be presentable and follow the proper courtesies expected of young lords and ladies. It was time to see if all the lessons her and her husband taught stuck.

It was a task easier said than done, and it would require help from the old gods and the new.

Catelyn fretted the most over her eldest son. She had no doubts he was groomed to be just as honorable a lord as his father, but she knew how dead set he was to win the hand of the king's niece and so much relied on the impression he left on the king and queen.

Deep within the halls of the castle, a trio of the eldest boys of Winterfell was prepping their appearance to the high standards laid down by the Lady of the North – much to the dismay of some members of the trio.

Lord Eddard's bastard and ward, Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy, waited for their turn with the barber. He was swiftly and expertly shaving the face of the heir of Winterfell, Robb Stark.

Hair needed to be trimmed and faced neatly shaven to appease the Lady Stark. Jon was the least enthusiastic about all the trouble just for the benefit of some bloody king.

"Why is your mother so dead set on us getting pretty for the King?" Jon directed his question to his half-brother with the frustration evident in his tone. He did not even attempt to hide his misery from his brother despite knowing how important this impending royal visit was to Robb.

"It's for the Queen, I bet," Theon answered for Robb. "I hear she's a sleek bit of mink. Though Stark would be here regardless. He has to look best for his lady fair."

Theon exaggerated his voice for his last sentence into a high-pitched, dreamy tone in an attempt to embarrass the young lord.

"Kat will not be traveling with the king's part," Robb stated. He kept his tone even, not allowing Theon any more reason to tease him. Jon, however, was ever watchful.

Jon's stoic watch and knack for small details were a trait he developed very early. With his status with select members of the Stark family, it was often safer for the bastard to stay quiet and in the background, but he always took notice. They hurt of disappointment within his brother's eyes did not go unnoticed by Jon.

Robb cared for Kathleen immensely. They both did. When news of the pending visit of Robert Baratheon, Robb's hopes, as well as Jon's, soared with the promise of their long-lost friend returning to Winterfell.

As children, they never understood why the Lannisters suspended Kathleen's yearly visits. Now Jon knew the expectations of lords and ladies from noble families, but Jon didn't agree with the Lannisters decisions to cut her away from the Starks.

Kathleen was the brothers' best friend and partner in crime. The halls of the castle were dull and less bright without the sound of her laughter as she chased them up and down Winterfell.

The news that the brothers' separation with Kathleen prolonged was a near fatal blow to their hopes and their hearts.

"Gods," spat Theon. "We have to hear you pining after her even longer? Don't think I can take another of your damn letters. Dearest Kat, I miss you like the flower misses the warmth of the sun in the depths of the longest winter…"

Theon returned to teasing Robb with his high-pitched voice, earning a chuckle from Jon. The ward didn't shy away from the young lord's infatuation with Kathleen, and Jon couldn't help but enjoy the flush of embarrassment that crossed his brother's face.

"You're lucky she isn't coming, Greyjoy," Robb silenced Theon with a hint of mischief in his voice. "I do recall the lat time you saw Kat; you were looking up at her while on your back."

Robb's retort met with a grimace from Theon and an even louder laugh from Jon.

The two brothers make it their life mission continuously to remind Theon of his last encounter with Kathleen Lannister. Jon never would forget the image of the small spitfire of a girl balling up her fist and knocking Greyjoy on his back just to defend his honor.

Kathleen was his closest friend growing up, even closer than his half siblings, and as much as Robb missed her, Jon ventured to guess that he missed Kathleen even more. Though Jon would never admit that detail.

"Next time," Theon responded with a sly look on his face, quickly recovering from Robb's retort, "Kat will be looking up at me while on her back."

Theon finished with a devilish smile at the mention of his favorite hobby. Robb clinched his fists. Jon watched the anger flashed across Robb's eyes as his nostrils flared. The red flush on his face was no longer from embarrassment. Had he not had shears so close to his face, Jon was sure Robb would have throttled Theon right where he stood.

"Though, it's the prince you should concern yourself with," Robb continued after a pause to compose himself. "I hear the prince is a right royal prick."

"Think of all those southern girls he gets to stab with his right royal prick," Theon joked, quickly returning to his wicked ways without notice to Robb's previous anger. "Is that why you are so testy, Robb?" he asked. "Thought you were finally going to stab Kathleen with your prick?"

"Greyjoy," Robb growled. His voice no longer that of the young Robb Stark, but of the future Warden of the North. His patience with Theon had reached its breaking point. "Speak of her in that way again, and you will be without a prick to stab. She isn't one of your whores. Once the king arrives, she will be my betrothed. Respect her as such or it will cost you."

"Suppose that means you intend to go through with it?" Theon asked with disgust.

The ward was still very much in love with sowing his wild oats and the thrill of his nightly pleasures even to contemplate the thought of marriage.

"Aye, I do," Robb answered without a trace of doubt. "I've spoken to father. He and mother agree it would be a smart match. He intends to ask the king once the part arrives."

"Will King Robert accept?" Jon questioned. His breath hitched in this throat, and his fumbled with the simple sentence more than his intended.

The small slip went unnoticed by Robb, but not by the sneaky Theon as a wicked grin spread across his face. He loved any opportunity to stir up a little trouble.

"The king and queen are her guardians," Robb answered. "Father feels that Robert would be thrilled to join our houses with marriage. Though she is a Lannister, so the queen may not be so accepting."

Robb dusted himself off and felt his cleanly shaven face, inspecting the work.

"Go on, Tommy," he laughed before pushing his half-brother into the chair. "Shear him good. He's never met a girl he liked better than his hair."

Robb and Theon shared a laugh at the look on Jon's face, the fear of his precious locks trimmed evident.

"Believe you are wrong there Stark," Theon said with his infamous smirk, ready to counter Robb's point. "Snow here fancies your maiden fair. He even has his stack of letters from Kat."

Robb shot Theon a suspicious look before turning his attention on Jon. It was the first he heard of Jon receiving letters from his Kathleen while she was hidden away in King's Landing.

He was not entirely shocked that Kathleen would write Jon as well. The two were extremely close as children – even more so than the two brothers were.

Kathleen and Jon's favorite past time was running away in the god's wood, leaving Theon and Robb behind. Robb and Theon would search for the two, but never found them no matter how hard they tried. It became a secret game for the bastard and the orphan.

As Robb grew older and the years of separation grew longer, he ventured back to his childhood. He thought of his days as a young boy running around the ground of Winterfell chasing Kathleen with his wooden sword.

When the pains of his lonely heart were too unbearable, Robb's jealousy would flair at the thought of the alone time Jon spent with his wild, Lady Lannister during their childhood.

If he had known that one day her visits would end, Robb would have spent more time serving as Kathleen's friend and not tormented her with his sword. He grew up listening to the stories his father told of the rebellion and Robert's rise to king. He knew how the Lord of Winterfell felt about the Lannisters of the South.

Robb let his father's idea of his first impression of Kathleen. He spent most of his time teasing Kathleen for her Lannister name and the horror stories associated with her family than being a true friend.

He would give anything to know then what he did now to avoid the torture and heartache of wasted time.

Jon chose a different path. His friendship with Kathleen grew intense and spread faster than wildfire.

Robb couldn't help to feel a pang of jealousy and heart that he had to share Kathleen. Declarations of love and promises of the future sent on perfumed letters weren't sent only to him, but his brother received secret words. Robb knew deep down that Jon's notes could not be filled with the same words of love.

Kathleen had a generous and open heart. No doubt she loved Jon dearly, but like her brother. At the end of the day, Jon Snow was just that – a Snow. He was not a trueborn son of a high lord, while Kathleen was born to one of the mot powerful families of all of Westeros.

She could never marry Jon. She could never love him more than a friend. Kathleen was destined to be his. Sent to Winterfell in tragedy, an innocent and beautiful love blossomed. He still couldn't quite the curiosity and jealousy as he thought of what Kathleen would write Jon that she could not include in the letters she sent to him.

Robb always shared Kathleen's letter with Jon. Anytime she mentioned any of his family; he let them know that Kathleen was thinking about them even after all these years and miles away in King's Landing.

Despite the difference in last name and parentage, Robb and Jon were true brothers and always treated the other as such. The thought of Jon being a bastard never crossed Robb's mind.

For the life of him, Robb could not wrap his mind around why Jon felt the need to keep his letters from Kathleen secret for so long. What could the two possibly be hiding?

"What does she write to you?" Robb asked more quietly than he intended.

"That she can't wait for the day that she is Lady of Winterfell and can send Greyjoy back to the Iron Islands with a nice shiner," Jon answered.

Theon grunted in annoyance at being made the butt of the joke once more, but before Robb could interrogate his brother on the secrets shared with Kathleen, Maester Aemon poked his head through the door.

"The royal party was spotted a league away," he announced. "Your father's bannermen have ridden out to escort them back to Winterfell."

The three boys exchanged excited looks. They were about to see which of the many rumors of the royal family in King's Landing would be proven true.

"Lady Catelyn expects all of you dressed and presentable outside of the castle," the master instructed. "You'll need the saving grace from the old gods and the new if you're late."

The boys hastily gathered their belonging, scattering to their chambers to dress before the party arrived. None wanted to face the wrath of Lady Stark.

Robb grasped Jon's shoulder in a brotherly way before the two parted.

"Your future awaits," Jon spoke as he gestured his head towards the main entrance of the castle with a smile.

Robb matched the smile not knowing just how much his life was about to change in a few short moments.


	4. The Roar of the Rock

_III: The Roar of the Rock_

 _The North was mysterious, enormous and wild through the eyes of Kathleen Lannister._

 _Before today, she never stepped outside the borders of King's Landing. Now she was venturing hundreds of miles away from the safety and comfort of the only home she had ever known._

 _Her entire life spent in the warmth of the southern, summer sun left her unprepared for the North. She did not know she could ever feel this cold, and she even dressed in thick wool and fur cloak._

 _She longed for the moment she could return to the capital. It was hard for Kathleen to imagine a day that she would ever acclimate to the brisk Northern air. That day would and did come._

 _It was even harder for Kathleen to imagine that she would ever feel the depths of winter so viciously cold within her heart. The long winter was coming, and she'd one wish for the warmth she felt traveling north that summer morning._

 _Travel north she did._

 _She_ forded _through the infamous Trident. She weaved through the untamed forests that guard the King's Road. She crossed the rivers and streams of the Riverlands, while spying the monstrous mountains of the Vale in the distance._

 _The further north she traveled, the more desolate Kathleen felt. Despite being surrounded by a great traveling party, Kathleen was utterly alone._

 _Her home was far behind her. On the first league of their journey, Kathleen glanced over her shoulder for one last longing look of the towers of the Red Keep, glistening crimson in the sun until it became a dot on the horizon._

 _Kathleen desperately wanted to work up the courage to dart her mare around and race towards home, yet she kept marching forward as the miles extended between her and everything she loved._

 _Would she ever see King's Landing again? That frightening thought brought along another - would she see her family and all she left behind ever again?_

 _All that was familiar was lost and replaced with foreign and unknown. Each step further took every ounce of courage Kathleen had._

 _Their journey on the King's Road was nearing the close of its second week. Lord Eddard Stark and his men accompanied Kathleen._

 _Lord Stark was a towering figure to the Kathleen. She heard countless stories about the great Lord and Warden of the North as a child from her uncle Robert._

 _He was a great man that was rooted deeply in duty and honor for the realm and his family. Kathleen had nothing to fear within his protection, but he was still a stranger._

 _The stoic man grew hard in the north, and he did little to give Kathleen any sign of comfort. He had spoken even less throughout their journey, making Kathleen afraid addressing Lord Stark herself._

 _She was not the only member of the company that was plucked from home and thrown into an unknown world. A boy near her age also traveled towards Winterfell._

 _Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands rounded out the traveling party, and for what little words Lord Eddard spoke, Theon made up for in spades._

 _Theon's father,_ Baleon _, rose up in rebellion against King Robert Baratheon. Those faithful to the crown and the realm struck down_ Baleon _swiftly._

 _As an added measure of security to ensure the Greyjoys remained loyal and prevented future unrest, Theon was taken and was sentenced to serve as Lord Stark's ward._

 _How did Kathleen Lannister exactly fit into this equation?_

 _The five-year-old child was not so sure of that herself. The last few days were a complete blur, and she had not been able to wrap her head around everything that had happened._

 _Once, she was the center of her father's life and the sole owner of his love. She never wanted for anything and spent her says trailing behind in his shadow. Her once perfect world shattered when her father's blood split upon the Iron Islands._

 _From the life-alerting second her uncle Jamie delivered the devastating news, Kathleen's world moved at rapid speed, leaving the child stuck in slow motion as it passed her by. Without warning or barely any explanation, her belongings were tossed in a trunk, and she as mounted on mare destined towards Winterfell._

 _She was terrified, but she was a Lannister. She knew her words. Hear me Roar. She would not show fear. She did not show any emotion whatsoever. Since the night she was delivered the news of her father, she had not shed a single tear._

 _She set on top of her mount with as steady of a face a newly orphaned child could manage. She did speak a word, though she did not have the opportunity to utter a word even if she wanted to do so._

 _Theon dominated the conversation. For a boy in quite a similar situation as Kathleen, the ward has a very distinctive way of handling himself. He was an "expert" on an endless amount of topic and rarely ran out of stories to share with anyone who dared to listen. Due to their ages, Kathleen was on the receiving end more often than not._

 _He shared tales of the glory of the Iron Islands and the history of the great House Greyjoys. He boasted of his skills with a bow and the exciting hunts he had mastered at such an early age. The gods know what else he droned on about._

 _Kathleen may have been his target audience, but she paid him a microscopic amount of attention. His words went in one ear and out of the other without registering in her mind, expect on this particular afternoon._

 _Theon was in the midst of bragging about his father and the legacy he'd one day inherit as the rightful heir of the Iron Islands. Kathleen heard far too much from Greyjoy._

 _"Your father was a traitor," she spoke, breaking her silence._

 _Lord Eddard and Theon glance curiously at the young lass riding between them. It was the first time since leaving King's Landing that Kathleen had spoken a word, and neither were sure that they had heard her correctly._

 _"My father is a great lord," Greyjoy continued. "One day, I will be a great lord too."_

 _"He is not," Kathleen_ retorted _in the perfect argumentative strategy of a child. "He rose against the king and was defeated. He has traitor's blood, and so do you My uncle told me so."_

 _"If it were the Kingslayer, he would know about being a traitor," Theon_ smarted _off in defense. "At least, I still have a father."_

 _"Don't you ever call him that," Kathleen spat in defense of Jaime Lannister. "And I would have a father if it wasn't for YOUR stupid father and his failed rebellion."_

 _Kathleen pushed the stronger and larger boy with all of her might before digging her heels into her mare's side. She veered off the King's Road deep into the wildness of the North._

 _Warm tears streamed down her face as the mounting feelings she tried to bury deep within her spilled over. It did not take long before she'd lost in the exotic woods. The tears fell harder._

 _She was sure she would draw her last breath alone and frighten in the dark woods, miles away from the ones she loved._

 _Kathleen did not know how long she had been silently crying amongst the trees before a large, comforting hand placed around her shoulders. In any other situation, Lord Eddard Stark would have instructed her to wipe away the tears and be strong._

 _Winter as coming and only the strong would survive the endless nights._

 _The great lord watched her silently display strength and maturity well beyond her years. He was impressed the child had not lashed out at Theon sooner than she did. He comforted her as she cried until no more tears fell. Kathleen wept for her father, her family and her home while Lord Stark issued as many comforting words he could offer._

 _"I know the hurt of losing your father before you are meant to do so," he emphasized with the young Lannister once she wiped away the final tears. "It is a horrid pain for anyone to carry. It's one no child should ever have to know. It never goes away, but it will lessen in time."_

 _"He promised he'd come home," she whispered, her voice hoarse from her sobs._

 _"I know he did, child," Lord Stark replied softly. "He did everything he possibly could to keep that promise, but the gods often have plans we cannot see."_

 _The hurt in her voice broke his heart. His boys weren't much older than her. He couldn't help but picture them and the pain on their faces if he had not made it home from the Iron Islands. He felt Kathleen's pain as if it were his own._

 _"Do they not want me anymore?" she asked of the family that sent her away. "Is that why I'm here? Did I do something wrong?"_

 _"No child," he answered, trying to wash away any doubts. "You have done nothing wrong. Your family loves you very much. That's why they sent you with me for just a time. It was not an easy decision for them to make, but your uncle will send for you when you've had a chance to be a child again. Until then, Winterfell is your home. You are a most welcomed guest."_

 _Kathleen kept her gaze frozen upon the snow on the ground. Her misery and heartache were still clearly plastered on her face. Lord Stark's words provided some comfort, but a child could only comprehend so many rapid changes at one time. Time was what she needed most of all now._

 _"Your uncle told me you're handy with a sword," Lord Stark commented, trying to lighten the mood, while eying the wooden sword secured around her waist. It had not left her side the entire trip._

 _It was a gift from her father. One of the last gifts he was able to bestow upon his only child. The dulled weapon was carved to match her father's bejeweled long sword. It was Kathleen's most treasured possession. Ned had noted her sleeping with the to rightly within her grasps on more than one occasion._

 _"Father was training me," she spoke with more fire behind her voice than he had ever heard in the time Kathleen had been in his charge. "Sometimes Uncle Jamie helped. Father said I was better than all of his guard. He even let me hold his long sword once."_

 _"My eldest sons are starting their training with my master at arms as well," Lord Stark answered with a smile. "Perhaps you may teach them a lesson yourself."_

 _"Are they like HIM?" she questioned exasperated at the thought of more boys like Theon Greyjoy in the world._

 _Lord Stark let out a bellow of a laugh. The stern man did not seem anywhere near as intimating as he did when their journey began._

 _"Robb is energetic and bold," he answered. "He is always ready for an adventure and an opportunity to learn. Jon is quiet and thoughtful. He is clever beyond his years. I believe they'll be great company for you."_

 _Kathleen perked up at the prospect of more children her age to play and duel._

 _"Come along," Lord Stark offered warmly as the two returned towards the King's Road, "I will tell you all about my children."_

* * *

The northern woods that were once frightening and strange many years ago were now a welcoming sight. The thick groves of trees were like an old friend celebrating her return and welcoming her home.

As the journey inched closer and closer to Winterfell, Kathleen's mind was flooded with countless happy memories of her days as a child, racing amongst the same trees. All the secrets the woods must know.

She recalled the spots where she and Jon climbed high into the branches from a pursuing Robb and Theon. She remembered where Robb tagged his first buck on his first hunt. She recounted the endless laughs and stories swapped in the seemingly perfect days of bliss.

It had been far too long.

"If you stray off the King's Road long enough, the grumpkins may take you," came a sarcastic call behind her.

She could not contain her laugh. Old Nan enjoyed frightening the children with the horrors of the long winters. Kathleen brought the tales back to King's Landing, but could never tell them in such a convincing matter at Old Nan.

"I did not peg you as one that believed in ghost stories, uncle," she retorted.

Ser Jaime Lannister trotted to her side. Kathleen ventured off into the woods just outside the borders of Winterfell, and her ever-protective uncle followed suit. His long blond hair glistened as bright as his golden regalia of the King's Guard.

He was handsome. His features chiseled. Jaime was a picture-perfect image of a knight.

Those unfamiliar with her father often mistook Kathleen as Jaime's daughter. She inherited many Lannister features, including the dazzling green eyes like Jaime's. Kathleen did sport a bane to the Lannister legacy. She inherited the dark, raven hair of a Baratheon. A quick glance, one would not guess Kathleen was a Lannister with her chocolate locks.

Kathleen felt like a commoner beside her uncle in his golden armor and crystal-white cloak. Though dressed in a scarlet gown fit for riding and stitched with elaborate golden lions and a matching golden cloak, it paled in comparison to the garb of the King's Guard.

"Robert is close to reaching the gates now," Jaime commented. "Your aunt will not be pleased to know you've wandered off."

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her?" Kathleen responded with a smile. She continued her leisurely trotted in the woods. Her detour off the King's Road into the forests of Winterfell was much needed. Immersed in her old home that she missed desperately, Kathleen felt renewed.

"You do know the battle I fought to convince her to allow you to ride to begin with?"

"What will she do? Ban me from riding when there are no more miles to travel?" Kathleen laughed. "Besides, is it indeed wandering off if I know the way? Do not forget; Winterfell was once my home, uncle."

"It should never have been," Jaime sharply replied.

Jaime fought harder than any of the decision that sent Kathleen to Winterfell as a child. He kept it no secret he still disagreed with the choice. With the added stress and exhaustion from their lengthy journey, no one was in a genuinely pleasant mood, save Kathleen, Jaime replied more roughly than he intended.

Kathleen paid no mind. She gently squeezed his hand, letting him know that she never blamed him or anyone for the decision that shaped her life. He may have lost the battle, but she always remembered, even as a child, how much he did not want her to leave. That meant more than anything.

"But it was Jaime, and it is," She replied, letting go of his hand.

When she first left with Eddard Stark years ago, she held the same sentiments as Jamie. As time past, Kathleen thrived in the North. The Starks were as much of her family as the Lannisters and the Baratheons. She did not regret a single moment spent in their care.

"You still intend to marry the Stark boy," Jaime stated, changing the subject. He did not even bother to form the sentence into a question.

"He is not a boy," she defended, directing her mare in the direction of the King's Road. "He is the future Warden of the North, and yes, I do."

Jaime guided his steed next to his niece, matching her pace.

"He's a boy," Jaime countered. He does not know the responsibilities that come with women and love. Suppose I need to have a stern talk with the pup."

"And you do uncle?" Kathleen scoffed. "Do not scare him. I have no doubts that Robb Stark is a perfect gentleman. If not, I have no doubts; you will throttle him for me."

"You aren't supposed to be of marrying age," Jaime commented, lost in the nostalgia of childhood. He watched her grown into the woman that was before him. "I swear you were running around with wooden dragons yesterday."

She playfully nudged his shoulder, though he couldn't feel it with the amount of armor he was wearing.

"You cannot keep me a child forever, uncle," she laughed. "If we wait much longer, I'll be destined an old maid."

"That won't stop me from trying. That last option does not sound terrible," He defended, brushing his golden locks off his forehead.

Out of all her uncles, Jaime was the most protective. Jaime was tasked with the burdensome duty of delivered Kathleen the news of her father's death. Since the night he clutched his sobbing orphan niece to his chest and rocked her to sleep, Jaime filled the roles of an uncle, brother, and father.

He protected her from the evils of the word. He pampered her with gifts. He continued the training she with steel her father began long ago. He built her up. He gave her criticism to help her grow. He showered her with affection when she needed it most. He was her confidant and advisor.

Jaime Lannister became the father she lost too soon. Kathleen loved her uncle dearly.

If their family resemblance was not enough for people to make the assumption that Kathleen was Jaime's daughter, the relationship between the two fueled the fired. Jaime treated her as if she was born from his seed.

At the end of the day, Jaime would claim that he was just honoring the last request his brother ever asked. He swore a promise before Kristof gallantly stormed off to Iron Islands that if anything ever happens, Jaime would step into the void; but he'd never admit that he had grown to love the new role thrown upon him.

He strove to keep his last promise to his brother to the best of the ability. He owed Kristof that much. He owed Kathleen that much. The gods took everything away from her when she was just a child. He intended to giver Kathleen everything that he could.

Kathleen began a trot back to the King's Road but stopped short when she noticed that her uncle did not follow her lead.

"It is not safe to travel alone in the woods of the North," she whispered dramatically. "There are worse things than grumpkins."

Come back here before I change my mind." Jaime motioned her back while shaking his head at her theatrics. "I have something for you."

She returned to his side as he shuffled through the pack on the back of stallion as best he could with his armor limiting his range of motion.

"I have been debating for quite some time on if you were ready," Jaime explained as he untied the carefully, wrapped object behind him. "I was saving it for your name day; but if this Stark pup of yours has it his way, you won't be leaving Winterfell. Suppose now is as good of time as any."

As he unwrapped the object, Kathleen could not hold back a gasp as what sunlight that drifted through the tree canopy danced along the steel.

"Father's?" came her whispered disbelief. She had not seen it since he departed that fateful day from King's Landing.

"Aye, it was," Jaime answered as the sun glistened off the Valyrian steel and rubies. "The Roar of the Rock."

The blade, fittingly named, proudly boasted the prestige of House Lannister. The roaring line etched on the blade. A golden hilt bore the resemblance of the roaring lion, studded with the must stunning rubies.

The centuries-old sword passed down from generation to generation and traced back to the earliest days of the Lannister family lineage. Kings and Lords wielded the weapon. It led thousands of armies and delivered, even more, deaths.

Kathleen recalled her father proudly wielding the sword during their training sessions. It never left his side. She grew up hearing her father recite historical tales of the weapon, but the weapon failed him during the Greyjoy rebellion.

"I can't," Kathleen refused. Her voice still coming out in a whispered awe at the sight of a sword she never thought she would see again. Fond memories flooded over her, bringing tears to her eyes. "It was never meant to be mine. I'm not a lord. I'm not a commander of armies."

"Your father thought differently," Jaime countered. "Kristof was one of the greatest swordsmen the Seven Kingdoms ever saw, and he was training you. He toyed with the thought of remarrying to give you a mother, but he never once thought of remarrying for a male heir."

"You were greater than any son he could ever have," he continued. "The future he dreamt for you was unfathomable. He saw greatness in you. More than you see now. I see the same fire he saw in you."

"He always intended for this to be yours." His voiced filled with a caring, fatherly tone. "I have guarded it. I've trained you to wield it as a Lannister should. Today is the day that it becomes yours."

Kathleen could not contain the overwhelming emotion as a lone tear trickling down her face before she firmly gripped the hilt for the first time. Jaime's words overflowed her heart. His words of loving praise filled her with pride. The return of a long-forgotten artifact of her father's brought up the familiar pain of his loss.

She adjusted the weight in her arm, slicing the dense, forest air with practice swings.

"I pray you never need to use it," Jaime muttered to himself before tossing the leather sheath to his niece.

After securing the sheath around her waist, Kathleen returned the weapon to its new home by her side. She threw her arms around her uncle's neck as best she could while still mounted upon their horses.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I wish I could tell you just how much this means to me. I won't disappoint you. I will make you and father proud."

"You already have," Jaime answered, placing a kiss on Kathleen's forehead while returning the embrace.

"Aunt Cersei will be thrilled to see me stride into Winterfell with steel on my hip," Kathleen joked as she broke the hug.

"I will deal with my sister," he answered. "Though I won't be able to spare you from her wrath if you aren't amongst the party when they arrive at the gates."

"Then we must make haste!" Kathleen shouted with her eyes full of fire.

She dug her heels into her mare's side, racing towards the King's Road and Winterfell. Jaime took a moment to watch his niece with a proud smirk on his handsome face. Kathleen was certainly a sight to see.

Her raven hair danced and tangled in the wind. Her fingers clenched into the mane of her mare. The tails of skirts sprinkled with mud. He knew after her mad dash towards the gates; her face would be as well.

She threw taunts towards him as she raced ahead. Her newly housed blade bounced against her hip with every stride. Jaime wondered if the Stark boy knew just what he was getting when he swore his vows to Kathleen Lannister.

His brother called his only child a warrior princess. As Jaime watched her, he saw what his brother knew from the start.

He pressed his heels into his mount and began to chase down the warrior princess who was willing to trade that title in for Lady of Winterfell. Jaime could not foresee the changes their innocent trip to the North and the mere want of young love would bring to his family and all of the Seven Kingdoms.


	5. A Royal Welcome

_Chapter IV: A Royal Welcome_

Kathleen urged her horse forward, pushing her mare to the brink. Even with her head start, Jaime and his majestic and powerful warhorse quickly overtook her. She was not surprised by the outcome of the impromptu race.

Jaime's stallion was incredibly powerful with lightning-quick speed and was trained to survive the many hardships of battle. Her mare served one purpose – transport her from on destination to the next in timely fashion. Her beloved horse served her role dutifully, but in the end, she was no match for Jaime.

With her uncle firmly in the lead and with insurmountable odds against her in chasing him down, Kathleen slowed to the brisk trot, surveying the city surrounding the castle's walls.

Winterfell felt larger and smaller all at the same time to Kathleen. As a child, the world always appears more massive than it is. Winterfell was no exception. The world inside and out of the castle was full of endless possibilities just waiting to explore.

Revisiting her childhood home for the first time as an adult, Winterfell did not seem as large or intimidating. King's Landing quickly trumped the city in size and population, but the North had grown since her last visit.

With the royal party's grand entrance, Northerners still lined the streets where they capture a glimpse of their King galloping towards the castle's gate. They glanced at her curiously as strode past them. She kept her head held proudly; gracing anyone she caught with lingering eyes with a curt nod.

If any Northerners remembered the Lannister child that spent her days at Winterfell, they did not recognize her as the woman striding before them on a well-bred horse. She was no longer the wild lion. Her grace, manners, and refined dress made too easy to deduce she was amongst the king's traveling party.

Hushed and hurried whispers spread as those lingering on the streets traded theories about the mysterious woman and her place in the realm. Was she royalty? Or a handmaiden to the queen? Perhaps a hired sword?

Kathleen made out segments of the whispers, fighting hard to keep a fit of laughter from escaping over the most bizarre claims. She only allowed a sly smile to grace her lips, fueling the rumors further.

The majority of the party – including three hundred bannerman, knights, free riders and sworn swords – had poured through the opened gates of Winterfell and spread out amongst the castle's grounds.

Her uncle Jaime, ever poised and graceful on top his stallion, had maneuvered near to the front of the procession near King Robert. No one would have guessed he had just been rushing through the Northern woods with a teenager hot on his heels.

Kathleen prayed to the gods she looked just as graceful and noble after her mad dash. She feared that was a lost cause. Another item to add to the list of grievances her queen aunt had created over their journey to Winterfell.

She expected to face Cersei's tough love and criticism sooner rather than later. Kathleen also knew that list would double in length before the king's visit with the Starks concluded.

Being one of the last to cross the Gates, Kathleen hide behind a line of bannermen. Even so, she doubted she'd be instantly recognizable by those that called Winterfell home had she been in plain sight. Kathleen preferred her underwhelming entrance. It gave her the ability to survey her surroundings, forbidding those around her a similar advantage.

Arranged on the steps of Winterfell were the Starks as well as the various servants, septons and others that served the Warden of the North and kept Winterfell running to the standards of Lady Catelyn.

Her uncle's unmistakable roar of laughter boomed over the grounds as he bounded off his steed to greet his old friend. Robert considered Eddard Stark more of a brother than his two true brothers.

The Lord and Lady Stark looked remotely unchanged since her goodbye four years ago. The gods had been kind to them both. New lines aged their face, but that was the only unrecognizable change of the couple that served as Kathleen's adoptive parents of sorts.

Kathleen picked out the youngest Stark children from the crowd. Bran was just a toddler the last time she had seen him. He was not quite old enough to keep up with Robb and Jon, so Kathleen did not spend very much time with Bran Stark over her childhood. Though she did remember, he was very fond of the stories Old Nan would tell come bedtime.

Arya Stark was just older than Bran. Kathleen always spent more time with the Stark boys than the two Stark daughters, but Arya was never too far behind. She cared little about grooming herself into a proper lady. As Robb write in his letters, Arya rivaled Kathleen with her wicked and wild ways.

Lady Stark was with child the last time Kathleen graced Winterfell. She deduced the small boy near Bran and Arya with light brown curls must be Rickon.

Sansa Stark was impossible to overlook. Kathleen never forgot her flaming, auburn hair. The eldest Stark daughter inherited the Tully look and had grown into a beautiful, young woman. Kathleen imagined Sansa favored her mother and was likely the splitting image of Catelyn Tully. Kathleen knew that Sansa would still be the perfect example of grace and courtesy.

With a smirk that never failed to boil her blood with frustration, Kathleen spotted Theon Greyjoy over Ned Stark's shoulder. He was taller and more muscular, but he was still the slim weasel of a boy. That would never change. His auburn hair and unwavering smug smirk gave him away.

Growing up, She never liked Theon. His ego was much too large, and his constant bullying of Jon was too much for Kathleen. Not to mention, his mouth got him in trouble more often than not, but he was part of the Stark family and one of Robb's closest friends.

Neither one would admit it to the other, but Kathleen and Theon did care for one another on some level. She wasn't sure how much she trusted him and believed Winterfell would be better off once he shipped back to the Iron Islands, but the duo still looked out for each other. It was their duty to torment each other. A strange bond it formed.

Kathleen's heart caught in her throat as her eyes finally caught sight of the one person she'd been desperately searching for form the start. She suddenly forgot how to breathe. She silently thanked the gods that the king's bannermen blocked her from view. She did not want him to see her so flustered by the knowledge her childhood friend had grown into a handsome, young lord.

Robb Stark, the heir of Winterfell, stood tall and proud, gazing upon his father's guests. During their childhood, Kathleen always stood taller than Robb. It was something she took pride over and often teased the little lord over the fact. She knew he would now tower over her. For once she would be forced to gaze up at him to see his face.

He had developed muscles from continuous training with a long sword. Kathleen could not help but notice and appreciate the shape of his broad shoulders, chest and arms. Even with the many layers needed to keep warm in the North, Kathleen did not have to venture far into her imagination to know what hid underneath.

His auburn curls cascaded over his forehead. Kathleen wanted more than anything to curl her fingers through his locks, gently sweeping them away from his chiseled face. His features rivaled any knight from the epic tales.

A sudden wave of fear erupted as Kathleen felt sick to her stomach as she gazed upon the man that written her sweet words over the years. He was the man she'd fallen helplessly in love in with, even without seeing his face or hearing his voice. Robb was more than she could have ever imagined. What if she fell short of his expectations? What is she was not enough for Robb Stark?

Queen Cersei joined Robert at the foot of the stairs, rightly continuing the courtesies of greeting expected of royalty. Her golden hair was intricately styled and matched the golden gown flowing behind her. She was the perfect picture of beauty and nobility. She was born to be a queen.

Cersei traveled in a wheelhouse with her two youngest children, Kathleen's cousins, Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella, over the journey to Winterfell. Her eldest son, Prince Joffrey strode upon his horse. He was ever prideful and ever the arse. Kathleen was quick to remind him of his flaws, but not without just punishment for her sharp tongue.

Before she could resume her search for the last of her old friend, Jon Snow, her uncle's boisterous voice sounded over the crowd, securing her attention.

"Aye, you must be the boy," King Robert Baratheon spoke as she surveyed Robb. "No wonder she won't shut up about you."

His laugh roared even louder than his voice. Despite separated by several feet, Kathleen noticed the slight blush that spread across Robb's features.

"Suppose you all want to hear her," Robert mused. "Katy!"

Using the shortened name he bestowed upon her long before she could ever remember, Kathleen deeply inhaled as she answered his call. There was no turning back. Her future and everything she ever dreamt of wanting that last four years was standing before her, terrified it would shatter right before her eyes once she stepped in Robb's line of sight.

She nudged her mare forward as the banner man parted to make way for the king's niece. She dismounted as gracefully she could while knowing all eyes were upon her.

Kathleen had dared a glance at her aunt before she turned to face the Starks, the family she once considered her own. Cersei's face was cold as ice and showed no emotion, but Kathleen saw the fire within her eyes. The queen was not happy with Kathleen's unruly appearance or the sword she no doubtly spotted on her niece's hip.

Either way, Kathleen knew there would be a price to pay once the Lannisters were safely out of the earshot of their hosts.

Kathleen handed the reins over to a stable hand and presented herself before the Lord and Lady Stark.

"On behalf of my family, I thank you for graciously opening your home to us all on such short notice," Kathleen spoke in a distinguished manner her aunt taught her as she bowed deeply before the Warden of the North. "We are indebted for the hospitality shown throughout our stay."

Robb Stark gazed at the strange beauty bowing before his parents. He was frightened to look away, afraid his eyes were betraying him. It could not be his Kathleen. She was miles away, stranded in King's Landing, yet something familiar radiated off the woman before him.

Her tangled, raven hair, the mud splatter upon her lavish dress and youthful face, a sword secured at her hip like the wooden one Kathleen Lannister often used to threaten him. The beautiful maiden before him could only be the wild, young orphan of his childhood. He thanked the gods for the turn of events that brought her home to him.

His parents looked at her with kind but confused smiles until their eyes filled with the same delayed recognition he experienced.

"This can't be the wildling that called Winterfell home many years ago," Lord Stark mused kindly.

"I assure you, my lord," Kathleen spoke with the slyness that Robb remembered fondly, "I play the role of a lady very well, but not even King's Landing can take all the wildness out of me."

"Your mother would be proud to see the beautiful lady you've grown to be," Lady Catelyn spoke. She wrapped her arms around Kathleen in a motherly fashion. "We are delighted to have our little sprite back amongst us once more."

Kathleen allowed herself to melt within Catelyn Stark's embrace. It had been far too long since Kathleen felt the warmth of a mother's love. Cersei showed little favor to anyone outside of her children.

"The boys were very disappointed when they heard you would not be traveling," Catelyn continued. "We've added an addition since your last visit."

Robb studied Kathleen as she turned her attention towards his youngest brother.

"You must be the little lord Rickon," she spoke with a voice laced in mirth, music to Robb's ear. It was a melody he hadn't heard in so long, but he was desperate to listen to it until the end of ages.

Kathleen bestowed Rickon with the most dramatic bow. The younger boy blushed and hid behind Bran's leg as best as he could.

"What a mighty sword you have!" Kathleen gushed after spying the wooden weapon similar to the one she carried at his age. "I once had one just like it. You must show me how to wield it."

Rickon poked his head around Bran, smiling proudly over the compliment; but when Kathleen return his smile, Rickon darted behind his brother once more, earning a laugh from those witnessing the exchange.

"You were about his size the last I saw you if you remember me at all," Kathleen said as she turned her attention to Bran Stark. He was just a foot shy of her height with dark eyes and long, shaggy hair to match.

"I remember all your stories about the Lions of Casterly Rock," Bran spoke excitedly. He also enjoyed the histories of all the great families of Westeros.

"I have plenty more to share with you as long as you teach me all about the First Men," Kathleen answered.

"Is that real?" a brave voice interjected.

Robb could only roll his eyes in entertainment at his younger sister. Arya Stark had similar features as her young brother with perfectly matching dark hair and eyes. She did not have the same graces or beauty gifted to her older sister, but the rather dull girl showed no fear.

Kathleen followed Arya's gazed to the golden sword sheathed around her waist.

"Yes, it is," Kathleen answered much to Arya's delight. Her eyes fired with excitement.

"May I see it?" Arya asked with the same level of excitement in her tone.

"Perhaps not today," Kathleen explained to the crestfallen Arya. "It's been a long journey. We are all exhausted. Though I swear that before my visit ends, you may see it."

Arya's face immediately brightened back up at her words.

As Kathleen moved towards the right side of the Lord and Lady Stark to greet the oldest Stark children, she made eye contact with Theon Greyjoy – much to her dismay.

He shot her his patented smirk with a devilish wink. Kathleen rolled her eyes at his immaturity, scrunching her nose in disgust in disgust. Her actions only elicited a snicker to escape from Theon's mouth.

Near the back of the procession, Kathleen spotted Jon Snow. She should have known the bastard child of Lord Stark would not be allowed to welcome the royal party if Catelyn Stark had any say.

He was just as tall as Robb. From what Kathleen could gather from the crowd separating them, Jon was just a muscular as his half brother though not as large. His long raven curls matched his brooding, dark eyes. He was handsome, but that could be said about all the Stark boys. Though Jon Snow looked even more of a Stark today than he did in his youth – if that was even possible.

Kathleen knew she wouldn't be allowed to address him or greet him properly as the dear friend he was due to the circumstances. She did send him a small smile that he quickly returned. It was a special greeting between the two until a less formal moment allowed the two to steal a hug.

Her moment with Jon broke as Sansa Stark's smothered Kathleen into a hug.

"My dear sister has returned to us," she spoke with such grace. Kathleen knew Sansa did not actually miss her as much as her demeanor was implied. The two were never close, but Sansa never faulted in what her Septa Modrane instilled upon her.

"You are such a beauty," Kathleen returned, attempting her best to match the effortlessness Sansa conjured. "It won't be long before a lucky Lord is asking your father for your hand."

Sansa blushed on cue, slightly bowing her head.

Robb's heart sped faster than he had ever felt it before. It was his turn. His eyes had not left Kathleen as she paid each one of his siblings a visit, but she had not dared to look at him. He silently begged Kathleen to grace him with the same dazzlingly smile she shared with his brothers and sisters.

Finally, her dark, green eyes met the crystal blue of Robb Stark's. The remainder of the world melted away, leaving just the two of them. Robb did his best not to stare openly, but he was in shock. How could this stunning beauty be the girl that hit him with a wooden sword years earlier?

The look they shared may have only lasted second; but to the two reunited friends, the shared a lifetime. All the years of separation, countless letters and endless nights longing for the other was worth it for this perfect moment when the both knew they were on the cusps of their future.

"My lady," Robb sputtered. His voice was hoarse as he gently took her hand, placing his lips upon it. "Winterfell is blest by the presence of your beauty."

Kathleen could not stop the blush that rushed to her face. She had to steady herself as her knees threatened to buckle from the emotions that crashed over her from the warmth of his touch and the feel of his lips against her skin. It took every ounce of self-control within her to not embrace him, to bury her face into the crook of his neck and proclaim her love. She didn't realize much she had truly missed him until she was standing before him.

All that she wanted to do, she could not. Not with all eyes upon the couple. Some knew what the two intended to happen during the royal stay, so their reunion was a hot topic of conversation. Kathleen knew her place, as did Robb. A private would be shared soon, but she damned them all for delaying it.

"It's a welcomed sight to know I no longer have to look down upon you, my Lord," she spoke once she remembered how to use her voice. Robb could not help but smile at the sound of mischief in her voice. It was a sound he grew to love as a child. "The North should rest easy knowing a strong, gentle and honorable heir is ready to one day take his watch."

The two would have remained on the steps with hands intertwined, staring deep into each other's eyes like fools until the long winter came had Robert not interjected, shattering the moment between young love.

"Take me down to your crypts, Eddard," he spoke solemnly. "I would pay my respects."

Robert's first love, Lyanna Stark, was buried deep within the grounds of Winterfell. Her uncle never spoke of her for the pain was still too fresh. His love for her had not diminished after all the years since she left this world.

"Your grace," Cersei began to protest. She never forgave Robert for the love he harbored for the dead Stark. It drove a rift between them. Kathleen knew Robert's need to she Lyanna's grave would not bode well with her aunt.

"It's been a long journey," Cersei continued. "We are all tired and in need of rest. The dead could wait."

"QUIET!" Robert bellowed, ending any argument. Jaime took Cersei by the arm, leading her into the castle, while Ned led Robert towards the crypts.

Kathleen's heart leaped. She prayed that in the private moment between old friends her betrothal to Robb would be made.

She returned her attention to Robb once peace returned. He hadn't let go of her hand since he first placed it within his. He held her hand tightly as if once he let go; she'd be stolen from him once more.

"This is your home now," he whispered so those around could not hear. He leaned closer to her, placing his free hand on her lower back. "I will not let you leave my side again."

"I dare someone to try to drag me away," she spoke with fire as she gently patted the sword by her side.

He always admired her spirit. She never backed down from any fight, regardless of how mismatched it might be.

Before the two could continue their long awaiting reunion, Kathleen's attention was stolen by the stern voice of Jaime calling her to escort her to her room. Kathleen sadly bowed to make her leave of Robb, avoiding any reason to anger Jaime. She could tell he was upset at Robert's outburst.

"My lady," Robb breathed, catching her hand before Kathleen slipped out of reach. "May I escort you to the feast this evening?"

"It would be a grave mistake if you did not," Kathleen winked before disappearing into the castle doors.

Her uncle began his overprotective, fatherly criticism of the boy who stole her heart and would never be good enough for her in Jaime's eyes. His words went through one ear and out of the other as Kathleen peeked over her shoulder to see Robb ignoring his siblings' enthusiastic words as they tugged on his arm. He just wanted to steal one last look of Kathleen as well.

In that second, Kathleen was confident that no matter what her uncle, queen aunt or even the gods threw her way, she could bear all the punishment and pain as long as Robb Stark was hers.


	6. Arranged

**Good evening everyone - as you can tell, I've been busy this afternoon! To give you an update, I have posted revised versions of the prologue and first four chapters of _The Price of Love_. It isn't necessary to re-read them. Edits were made to make the story cleaner, but a few hidden gems are hidden within the older chapters. To reward you all - below is a BRAND NEW chapter! I plan to be updating more regularly over the summer. You can have a little GoT teaser before tonight's epsiode. Thank you all for being very patient, and I hope this chapter lives up to the wait. For those that read my Dark Knight series - I will have a new chapter posted this evening as well. Thank you all for being such wonderful readers! Be sure to favorite and sign up for alerts to keep up with updates, and I hope you leave a review if you enjoy! - trs0010!**

* * *

 _Chapter V: Arranged_

 _The air was thick in the Small Council room. The hour was late. Sorrow caked King's Landing, but a difficult decision could not wait. Sleep was a lost luxury to those locked inside the chamber._

 _King Robert Baratheon and his wife Cersei of House Lannister sat at the far end of the table. Cersei donned in a black gown – the color of mourning. The Greyjoy Rebellion defeated, but not without a price._

 _Kristof Lannister, the queen's younger brother, lost his life upon the Iron Islands. Lord Eddard Stark kept the last promise he made to the dashing, dying lion. He brought Kristof's home to King's Landing, returning him to his true love – his daughter._

 _Lord Stark joined his old friend in the Small Council room. He was exhausted and desperately wanted to journey home to the North where he wife and children waited for him in Winterfell. He wanted to return to life with no more war and senseless death._

 _Eddard wasn't certain why the king requested his presence. He supposed since he was the last to see Lord Kristof alive, Eddard was expected to speak on his behalf, but neither the king nor queen had spoken since he joined them._

 _The queen was near tears thinking of her kid brother, but she was a proud Lannister. She would not let a single tear fall in front of them._

 _Robert Baratheon's face shrouded in guilt as he battled a demon locked in his head, He had sent Kristof and the Lannister guard to help Lord Stark take down Balon Greyjoy, snuffing out any hint of rebellion, but at what cost?_

 _They all saw the happy face of Kathleen Lannister twist into horror as she ran out to greet her father on what was meant to be his joyous and triumphant return. It was his last battle before he and his daughter return to Casterly Rock as Kristof assumed his duties as heir. Kathleen caught a glimpse of a bloody corpse, and not her father's warm smile before Jaime Lannister could shield her._

 _They watched the young girl's entire world crumble before her eyes as she desperately called out for her father, clinging to the hope he was only injured. She fought to be by his side, wanting to hear him call her his little cub once more and that everything was alright. He was her gallant hero. He was her whole world. He could not have been struck down._

 _Helplessly they watched as she became an orphan, alone in this cruel world. Robert Baratheon could not help but feel responsible._

 _Jaime Lannister was the final member of the strange quarter to join. It was an odd sight for Lord Stark to see the Kingslayer without his golden armor and white cloak of the King's Guard. Though younger than Eddard, Jaime appeared to have aged twenty years overnight._

 _He hadn't left his niece's side since scooping her into his arms, shielding her from the grisly remains of her father. He broke the devastating news that shattered her heart. He held her, whispering all the soothing words he could muster, knowing they would never take away the pain. In a blink of an eye, Jaime Lannister became the father she just lost._

 _"She's finally asleep," He announced. He rubbed his hand over his face before running it through his tussled locks. "Whatever this is about, make it quick. I won't let her wake up alone."_

 _He flopped down in the chair across from his sister, slouching down almost defeated by the day._

 _"We need to discuss Kathleen's situation," Cersei stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her voice shook with the pain of loss, the only sign betraying her stoic appearance._

 _"What do you mean?" Jaime asked incredulously._

 _"The damned woman wants to send her home with you father," Robert bellowed._

 _"You can't be serious," Jaime laughed out of exhaustion. "She just lost her father, and you want to take everything else she knows away, too?"_

 _"Kristof planned to return to Casterly Rock," Cersei answered, her voice wavering at her brother's name, "He was taking Kathleen with him. Will it do her any good keeping her here where she's haunted by the ghost of her father? Jaime, our father, will raise her as a proper Lannister like Kristof never had the chance to do. She'll be protected. She'll never want for anything."_

 _"But THIS is her home," Jaime gestured around the room. "Father isn't exactly a joy to children. I swore to Kris I'd take over should anything happen…"_

 _"Take over?" Cersei scoffed, cutting off her brother. "So you can continue encouraging her with swords and stories of battles? Show her Kristof's body and see if she still wants to play the part of a knight. She's a girl and not the future heir of Casterly Rock no matter what Kristof wanted. She's a lady. When will you have time for her Jaime? You've sworn an oath as part of Robert's guard. You have a duty to keep."_

 _"He is known for breaking an oath," Robert mumbled with a small laugh._

 _"We have a duty to her!" Jaime slammed his first on the table. Robert's comment not helping him keep his cool. Between his sister's ridiculous rambling and his exhaustion, he was not sure how long he could take this calmly. "We can't ship her away because it is easy."_

 _"We can't stop ruling the Seven Kingdoms, doting on her every need, kissing away ever tear," Cersei countered. "We ALL have duties to keep – you, Robert, Renly, all of us. I have my child to raise now, our future king. You must see what can't give Kathleen what she needs."_

 _"She's our niece," Jaime pleaded. Without any doubt in his mind, he knew Kathleen belong, and to even think there was a discussion to be had was sickening._

 _"Kristof appointed me as her guardian should this day come," Cersei solemnly spoke. "Robert granted me that sole power. He wanted me to be the mother she never had and always needed. I do not make this decision lightly. I'm thinking of what is best for my niece."_

 _"That is madness," Jaime muttered in disbelief._

 _"Send her with me." Lord Stark spoke for the first time since the family debate broke out between the Lannister twins. He understood why Robert wanted him in the room – to convince Cersei of a better option. "Not as a permanent solution, but for a spell. My children are her age. She'll be a child again and take her mind off her father. The North may do her good."_

 _"Mourn your brother, take the time to heal and then make the decision on her future," Eddard argued. "Do not make a hasty decision in heartbreak that will destroy her. Once you have, I'll return her to King's Landing, but give the girl a moment to laugh again."_

 _"Stark's right," Robert chimed. "When's the last time she's even played with a kid her own damn age?"_

 _"Stark is the stranger that brought home her dead father," Jaime scoffed. "Sending her away with him is better than sending her with her own grandfather? Might as well send her to the Wall to join the bloody Night's Watch."_

 _"It's settled then," Cersei spoke, silencing the room. "She'll leave with Lord Stark in the morning. She'll stay in his care until we make further arrangements."_

 _"In the morning?" Jaime stormed to his feet. She could not believe his sister was allowing Kathleen stripped of her home and her father in a span of a few hours. "The gods damn us all for this."_

 _He strode towards the door. His frustrations, grief, and anger climbed to a dangerous level. He was stunned at the discussion that just took place, broken that his fierce and lively brother was rotting in the sept and haunted that once again he must deliver life-altering news to his precious niece._

 _"She'll never forgive you for this," he spat, flinging the doors of the chamber open._

 _"She won't forgive me," Cersei retorted with a faint, triumphant smirk upon her lips as Jaime slammed the doors behind him. "She'll thank me."_

* * *

Cersei Lannister allowed a self-deprecating scoff to leave her lips as she rounded the long hallway of Winterfell. She felt rejuvenated after bathing and dressing in one of her magnificent gowns after their perilously long journey and was ready to feast on the decadence of the North.

The long-forgotten memory that seeped into her mind mocked her. Ah, the irony in those three words.

Cersei's decision to send Kathleen to Winterfell so soon after Kristof's death was made with the best intentions in mind. Without parents to shield her from the cruelties of the gods, Kathleen needed to grow up quickly.

The queen charged with making those difficult decisions, one that loving parents would make, that shaped Kathleen's life. When Cersei said that Kathleen would one day thank her for sending her away, the queen thought her niece would appreciate that moment of hardship that molded her into the strong, graceful woman she grew to be.

The temporary separation from the familiar was meant to be a lesson for Kathleen to learn and grow. Now an orphan, Kathleen had to grow up faster than any girl ever should. She needed strength. Cersei banked on the time spent with the Stark's daughter would help Kathleen give up the foolish teachings Kristof shared with his only child.

When Jaime returned Kathleen home after what was meant to be a lone visit, Kathleen was more determined than ever to be one of the boys. Cersei did not anticipate that Kathleen would gravitate to the Stark boys. Kathleen was fiery and wild as ever, but she was happy. Happier than any of them could ever imagine after seeing the desolate shell of the girl they first sent to the North.

Though viewed cold, calculating and vile by many, Cersei did have a heart, though often saved for her children, but in that rare moment of weakness, she did not have it in her to destroy Kathleen's world the young girl was slowly putting back together. Cersei allowed the visits to continue until a new development forced her to cease them immediately.

Kathleen would thank Cersei for driving her into the arms of Robb Stark. Once the queen caught wind of Kathleen toying with the prospect of marrying the pup, she had to put a stop to it. A lion would not lay with the dogs.

Though Cersei though she'd snuffed out the fire, it appeared she only fueled the flames. She noticed the way the two stared at each other on the steps of Winterfell. Cersei had seen that look before. After a word with her husband, her suspicion was confirmed. She would not have it.

The Queen came to the final door of the long hallway and gently pushed it open, peering inside.

Kathleen sat in front of a mirror with a determined look on her face as she fumbled with her braids. Dressed in a magnificent gray gown for that evening's feast. Despite the annoyance upon her features, Kathleen looked more beautiful than Cersei had ever seen her.

Cersei took a moment to study her niece in silence, reminiscing to a time when she was just a baby in the days before Kristof was taken from them. The stoic lion remembered the first time she held Kathleen. She smiled up at her aunt with giant green eyes and tufts of raven hair.

Cersei loved her niece, but with her uncles' doting ways, the queen was resigned to be the bearer of tough love. Kathleen reminded Cersei of herself when she was younger. Maybe that was why she was harder on Kathleen more than anyone else. She did not want her niece to make the same mistakes as she did.

"You do not have to do everything by yourself, child," Cersei mused, making her presence known. "The feast will be over once you're finished."

Kathleen jumped at the sound of her aunt's voice, causing some hair to escape the braid.

"Gods, you scared me," Kathleen answered, not taking her eyes off her work. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know you shouldn't have sent your handmaiden away so soon," Cersei countered. "Let me."

Cersei gracefully crossed the run and shooed Kathleen's hands away before skillfully styling her raven hair. Kathleen always focused on wanting to be just like her father; she never dedicated the time to learn the things a mother would have taught her.

"You look love this evening, your grace," Kathleen commented as she studied her aunt's quick hands through the mirror. "Would never had guessed you've spent days cramped into a tiny wheelhouse."

"I almost thought I came into the wrong room. I did not recognize you without mud on your face and a sword by your side," Cersei spoke in a disapproving tone.

Kathleen rolled her eyes. She should have known she would not get off the hook so easily, even attempting to butter up her aunt. If Cersei was paying her a visit, Kathleen knew she would be on the receiving end of some form of criticism.

"I've told Jaime to stop encouraging that behavior," Cersei continued. "He never should have given it to you."

"Father wanted me to have it," Kathleen smiled. Her eyes shown proudly as she eyed the weapon lying on her bed.

"The Roar of the Rock belong to the heir of Casterly Rock," Cersei corrected. "Your father had not right to bestow it on you."

"Would you prefer me to give it to uncle Tyrion then?" Kathleen mused. "I do not believe he needs to be wearing a sword that is twice his height."

"You are a lady of House Lannister," Cersei continued, ignoring Kathleen's humor. "You have your own weapons. Wearing a sword is shaming the proud lineage we've left for you."

"Not all ladies are born to be queens or waiting to be saved by handsome knights," Kathleen retorted. "I do not need saving. I can fight my battles. Some of us have destinies greater than we could ever imagine. You just have to be brave enough to reach out and take it."

"You sound just like your father," Cersei rolled her eyes. "That kind of talk got him killed. Do NOT wear that thing to the feast."

"Well it does clash with my dress," Kathleen dramatically sighed with a scoff.

Cersei brushed her fingers through Kathleen's raven waves, separating a new section of hair to weave into the delicate crown of braids she was forming.

"Must you always make a joke of everything, Kathleen?"

Kathleen just flashed her patented Lannister smirk and sent a wicked wink toward her aunt, eliciting another roll of the queen's eyes.

"We are celebrating Lord Starks' appointment tonight, and I expect this type of behavior will be left behind with your damned sword," Cersei warned.

"Lord Stark accepted?" Kathleen asked with curiosity, ignoring her aunt's warning.

"Yes. He will accompany us to King's Landing to begin his duties as the new Hand of the King."

"Lord Stark is a wise and honorable man," Kathleen commented. The capital needs more men of his caliber."

"A wise and honorable lord that allowed his bastard to be presented before the royal party," Cersei scoffed.

"His name is Jon," Kathleen retorted through gritted teeth, trying her best not to make matters worse.

"Not matter his name," The Queen continued. "What a slap in the face it must be for Lady Stark to see the bane of her husband's honor every day?"

"We're pretending that uncle Robert doesn't have a few of his own now?" Kathleen snapped.

"Your uncle doesn't parade them around the capital."

"A child should not be punished for the crimes of their parents," Kathleen defended. "War makes even the most honorable men stray from their values."

"He's a bastard, not a pet to be raised," Cersei spoke with a tone meant to end the discussion.

"You would know," Kathleen whispered under her breath.

"There we are," Cersei announced her work complete. If she had her niece's comment, she chose to ignore it.

Kathleen felt the two rows of braids that wrapped around the back of her head, pulling her hair away from her face. Cersei allowed most of her niece's wavy, raven locks to flow loosely down her back and shoulders.

Kathleen straightened her dress as she stood up, twirling for her aunt.

"Am I presentable your grace?" she mocked with a bow.

She watched as Cersei's face tightened as she studied the gray garment with the dire wolf stitching. Her aunt's face grew a slight shade of red.

"What do we have here? A new gown?" Cersei asked through tight lips.

"Uncle Renly had it made," Kathleen answered, returning to the mirror to admire the finished product. "He thought it would be a proper way to honor the Starks for being such gracious hosts."

"I'm sure he did," Cersei muttered as Kathleen return her prized necklace around her neck. "Your uncles do have a tendency to spoil you. Though I suppose since the Starks are soon to be family, it is appropriate."

"Oh, is that so?" Kathleen stopped in her tracks as she eyed her aunt's reflection in the mirror, hoping for any sign as to what Cersei's response would be. Kathleen's heart thudded against her chest. She did not trust herself to believe that Cersei would make her hopes come true so quickly.

"It seems your uncle has been busy," Cersei smiled knowingly. She had all the power. She knew just how desperately her niece wanted to hear the words concerning Robb Stark that would send her little heart soaring. Cersei didn't deliver those words. "Your cousin is set to wed Sansa Stark."

"Sansa is a lovely girl," Kathleen answered, her voice shaky as she choked back disappointment. It was not the betrothal she wanted to hear. Her eyes betrayed her, showing the hurt she could not hide. The promise dangled so close but pulled away before she could grab it. "She will make a sweet, doting wife for Joff and a beautiful queen one day."

"I was waiting until we returned to King's Landing to tell you this," Cersei continued. "With all this talk of marriage, the present seems best. You've grown into a beautiful, strong woman. Your father would be proud. I've received many offers for your hand, and I've secured you an exceptional match."

Kathleen slowly turned to face her aunt. She feared the smug look on the queen's face. She felt her stomach churning and her heart slowly breaking without even knowing what was coming next. All Kathleen knew was she did not like the phrase "we returned to King's Landing." It meant Kathleen had no reason to stay in the North.

"Loras Tyrell will make a gentle husband," Cersei continued. "The Tyrells are pleased to have our houses joined by your impending union."

"Loras Tyrell? The Knight of the Flowers? Renly's Loras?" Kathleen sputtered out, sinking into her seat. Her head was spinning. Everything was all wrong. It wasn't supposed to go this way. "I'm not quite sure how to put this, but I believe Ser Loras prefers lances."

"Whatever his preference, he is still the heir of High Garden. HE is expected to marry and produce an heir of his own, and that my dear is where you will be of use. You can do worse than Lord Loras."

Kathleen succumbed to shock as she slowly shook her head back and forth. She felt faint as the stabbing pain in her heart was too much to bear.

"Bur Robb…" she whispered through tears.

"Aye, yes. Lord Stark did offer to join our houses with a union with his eldest son, but I decline."

"It's a smart match!" Kathleen roared to her feet. Anger now joined the fray of emotions flowing through her veins. She was upset, hurt and was ready to fight for her Robb. "He is the heir of Winterfell and future Warden of the North. The North is larger than all six of the other kingdoms combined. Wouldn't it be smart to join the two most powerful familiar in all of Westeros?"

"Your father entrusted me to protect your best interests," Cersei answered. "Robert granted me the right to serve as your guardian and be the mother you never had…"

"You'll never be my mother," Kathleen cut her off. "My mother would know that I love him, and that should be more than enough."

"I will not let my lion lie lie in the fleas with the dogs," Cersei spat.

"But Joff.."

"Is a Baratheon," Cersei finished before Kathleen could even get the argument out of her mouth.

"Is he?"

Kathleen raised the question before she could stop herself. She instantly regretted it as she witnessed the flash of anger spread across Cersei's face. Before she realized what was happening, Kathleen's cheek was met with the firm hand of the Queen of Westeros.

"Do not ever speak to me in that way again," Cersei threatened. "Your days of running wild with that pup are over as soon as we leave this wretched castle. It can't get here fast enough."

Kathleen brought her hand to her face, gently rubbing her cheek as she felt the heat left from the sting of her aunt's wrath. Kathleen felt the tears threatening to spill, but they weren't from any physical pain she was feeling.

Her heart was shattered. Her dreams and plans dashed. Her own family betrayed her, denying her of the one thing she's wanted the last four years.

Kathleen thought of her dear Robb? Had he heard the news yet? Would she be the one to deliver the devastating blow that breaks his heart? She could not bear the thought of seeing the hurt in his beautiful, crystal eyes.

A loud knock thudded against the door. Both women turned their attention to the sound that broke the private world they were momentarily trapped within. They gave each other a knowing look. There was a game of appearances to play.

Kathleen took a deep, calming breath before straightening out her dress once more while her aunt answered the knock.

"Lord Robb," Cersei smiled sweetly. She was a master of the game. "What do we owe the visit?"

"Your grace," Robb bowed respectfully, peaking behind the queen to catch a glimpse of Kathleen, ensuring he did, in fact, come to the right room. "If the Lady Kathleen is ready, it is my honor to escort her to the Great Hall."

"That is very gracious of you, but I believe the Heir of Winterfell should accompany Princess Myrcella," Cersei corrected as she began to close the door.

Kathleen rushed forward, placing a firm hand on the door to stop Cersei from denying Robb. She squeezed past her aunt into the hallway of freedom.

"I am ready, my lord," she curtseys to appease her aunt. "Your grace, Bran will make an excellent escort for Myrcella. I'll fetch him for you."

Kathleen linked her arm around Robb's and nudged him forward. "Go now before she demands my head," she whispered with a laugh.

The pair did not stop until they rounded the corner, breaking into a fit of laughter.

"Should I be worried about my own head?" Robb asked. "The look she gave you was terrifying."

"How much do you enjoy your head, Lord Stark?" Kathleen winked. "Though it is rather pretty, so I suppose I can beg her to spare it."

Robb laughed but grew quiet as he finally had a moment to drink in Kathleen. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in dark, chocolate waves. Her gown clung to her, accentuating she was no longer a girl, but a woman. Her eyes captivated him; he couldn't look away.

"Is something wrong…" Kathleen asked as she began brushing her face for any impurities, but stopped a Robb gently took her hand aside. Using his free hand, Robb delicately tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, causing an innocent smile to spread across her lips.

"You are stunning," Robb admired. "You are already a Lady of Winter."

"Robb…" Kathleen.

She had to tell him the news her aunt wounded her with, but the mesmerizing smile that graced his features when she spoke his name stopped her short.

"Father spoke to King Robert today about us," he counted, gently pressing his hand against Kathleen's cheek. "If you aunt approves, will you be mine?"

Kathleen's heart shattered. She mustered a sad smile, trying hard not to cry in front of him. She should have told him, but Robb still clung to his half of the promised future. He had not been crushed by one woman's petty cruelty.

Kathleen owed him one night. A night where they could both pretend that nothing else mattered in the world as long as they were together, and nothing would stand in their way of eternity together.

"Until the end of time, my lord," she smiled, praying he could not hear the pain in her words. "Though you certainly did not front a good argument against her by succumbing to my evil schemes."

He laughed as he studied the red mark on her cheek left behind by Cersei's anger. She gently traced the outline. Kathleen placed a finger to his lips to silence him before he could even ask.

"It's nothing," she answered. "Not even a petty fight will ruin tonight. Nothing will. Now, before I forget…"

She flung her arms around Robb's neck, pulling him closer to her. As she buried her head against his chest, the young Stark wrapped his arms around her waist and lowered his head on top of hers. It was their first moment alone since their reunion. Kathleen never wanted their embrace to end.

"I missed you," she spoke with tears in her voice. Robb only held her tighter. "I now love," he answered. "But we never had to miss each other again. We're together now."

Kathleen raised her head to look at her lord with a heartbroken smile. "If only we could stay locked in this moment forever. I don't think I've ever been happier."

With a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Robb lowered his head to meet her lips for the first time. He cupped the back of her head to pull her closer, holding her tighter as he felt her knees buckle.

He could not help but smile as he felt her smile into the kiss. It was sweet, the first kiss between lost lovers that held more emotion and unspoken words than anyone else would ever know.

Robb broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers and not daring to let her out of his arms. "I stand corrected," Kathleen said breathlessly. She melted at his wolfish smile and laugh that bounced down the hallway.

"Now my lady," he spoke, allowing a grin to grace his face as Kathleen pouted as he finally broke their embrace. "Shall we?"

He bowed, offering his arm.

"I thought you'd never ask," Kathleen sighed, placing a hand on her heart before wrapping it around Robb's muscular arm.

The two shared a laugh before entering the Great Hall. One still full of hope with the promise of a lifetime of similar stolen moments, while one held the dark secret that it would never be.

They were just stealing time.


	7. The Bastard and the Orphan

**Good evening! A tad late, but below you'll find the latest edition of The Price of Love. I meant for this to come out sooner, but I spent 24 hours stranded at an airport trying to get home, so I apologize for the lateness, but to reward you - this is the longest chapter to date! Hope you all enjoy. Be sure to add the story to your favorites and alerts to be the first to hear of updates, and as always, I love to hear from you in the reviews! I hope to have the next chapter out later this weekend, until then - Happy Reading! - trs0010**

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 _Chapter VI: The Orphan and the Bastard_

Rarely did Jon Snow ever thank the gods for dealing him the fate of being a bastard; but on this particular evening, he never felt more grateful not to be a trueborn son of Lord Eddard Stark.

The feast honoring the arrival of King Robert Baratheon was waning into the final hour. The best Winterfell had to offer devoured in a lavish feast in honor of the royal family's arrival in the North. Smoked meats, roasted potatoes, fine ales and rich desserts lined tables and filled bellies.

A haze of smoke from the kitchen fired below, and the pits were filling the massive room with welcoming heat wafted through the Great Hall. The smoke stung the eye, forcing even the toughest of knights to wipe away a lone tear.

The walls draped in the banners of Houses Stark, Lannister, and Baratheon, painting the room in gray, scarlet and gold. The dire wolf, lion and crowned stag dance on the fabric as the banners waved back and forth in the draft. At the far end of the Great Hal, a singer belted out a ballad accompanied by the high harp he strummed, but Jon was not sure if anyone could ever hear the lad.

The Great Hall buzzed with a low murmur as the fires roared, laughs and word exchanged by the hundreds crowded around the many tables and the clangs of plates and cups. King Robert's unmistakable laugh boomed over all the noise throughout the night.

Jon enjoyed the feast at one of the long tables that lined the room, mingling amongst young squires as he drank his fill of summer wine. He was shocked that Lady Catelyn permitted him to dine within the Great Hall this particular evening, but she made it deathly clear he would no sit amongst his brothers as he would have done on any other night.

No, having a bastard sit amongst the princes and princess would be a horrid offense to the royal family, but Jon did not complain. He no courtesies to keep or anyone to instruct him on how much or how little he needed to drink. He did not have to bite his tongue as he listened to the boasting of the crowned prince.

He quenched his thirst with flagons of the fruity win with his dire wolf pup gnawing on scraps underneath the table. It was another perk of being a bastard. He was the only Stark child allowed to bring his dire wolf to the evening's feast.

His half siblings and the king's children sat below a raised platform where his father and Lady Stark hosted the king and queen. Jon Noticed that Lord Stark was on edge. His father observed all the courtesies expected of a great lord, but something was bothering the Warden of the North. The Lannister queen looked the picture or beauty and grace, but a cold, icy glare dusted her features.

Jon wondered if the two were disturbed by the same unknown mystery.

A melodic laugh drifted from the head of the Great Hall down to Jon's ears. He couldn't contain the smile that spread across his face as it reached him. It was her laugh. He dared to gaze at the table where his brothers and sisters dined to catch sight of the laughter's source.

A spectacular smile spread across Kathleen's face as she doubled over laughing at some joke Robb undoubtedly told by the pleased look across his features for causing such a beautiful sound to escape Kathleen's lips. She had one hand clutched around Robb's arm as she steadied herself, attempting to regain her composure.

Kathleen caught Jon's stare, shooting him the smallest of winks. Jon nodded in return, the smile on his face growing. He was mostly grateful to be a bastard that evening, expect for one small detail.

It deprived him on spending the night in the company of Kathleen Lannister, and for that, he was extremely jealous of his brothers.

Jon could not stop himself from sneaking glances at his long-lost friend all evening. All of Lord Stark's children had their reunion with Kathleen. Even Theon Greyjoy basked in her presence that night, but Jon was forced to wait, only gifted with stolen looks and secret smiles.

He was arguably closer to Kathleen during her childhood visits to Winterfell than any of the others. It frustrated him more than he liked to admit that he was forced to be the last to have a moment alone with her.

Jon knew the odds were stacked against him to a reunion during the feast. Robb scarcely let Kathleen out of his sight all night, but Jon could not blame his brother. He would be doing the same. Seven hells, Jon couldn't stop stealing looks at her now.

All of the Stark children escorted members of the royal family to that evening's feast, save for young Rickon. He led the processions, stopping the briefest moment in front of Jon before he continued to his seat after encouragement from his half- brother.

Arya was on the arm of Prince Tommen, while Bran escorted the Princess Myrcella. Sansa drew the arm of the crowned prince, Joffrey Baratheon. His eldest sister was radiant, her auburn hair shiny brightly, and she could not take her eyes away from the young stag. She blushed anytime his eyes met hers. Jon did not see the appeal. He looked nothing like the knights and kings he grew up listening to in Old Nan's stories.

Robb and Kathleen rounded out the procession. The moment she entered the Great Hall, all eyes locked on Kathleen. She stole the show away from all the Baratheon children. 5

Jon even thought she put the queen to shame. It was not hard to tell the two were related with a quick glance between them, but where Cersei was cold and stoic, Kathleen was warm and welcoming.

She favored her uncle more than anyone. The Lion, Jamie Lannister, had morphed into her father figure after her true father's death. Kathleen carried herself in the same proud manner. Jon noticed the two had perfectly matching smirks. He thought Jamie looked more a king than Robert ever would, and Kathleen could rival any queen's beauty.

She and Robb were the perfect pair. His brother wore gray wool trimmed in white, and the fair maiden on his arm had ditched the Lannister gold and scarlet and done the colors of the North and House Stark.

The flowing charcoal gown etched with dire wolves brought out her emerald eyes. Her ebony locked cascaded down her shoulders. Like a fool, a giant grin spread across Robb's face when he looked down at Kathleen. She returned his look with her beautiful smile, but Jon noticed it did not reach eyes. Her green orbs held back a secret, but Robb didn't seem to notice.

Jon imagined he'd be just as giddy and oblivious as Robb if had Kathleen on his arm. Any man would. The entire hall could not help but watch as he escorted her to their seats. Whispers and knowing glances spread around Jon. All knew they were looking at the future of House Stark.

The Lord and Lady Stark could not hold back the proud smiles as they watched the couple. Jon knew the Starks and his brother were more than happy to join houses with the Lannisters if it meant adding Kathleen as a permanent fixture.

Kathleen was just as eager to marry his brother. Tonight, they played the part of a couple madly in love, and Kathleen was the picture-perfect image of the future Lady of Winterfell.

Even as the hours past and Kathleen had a tad more to drink than a lady should, she was still laughing and smiling as beautifully and gracefully as when she owned the room.

Though his place as a bastard was at the opposite end of the hall, Jon thanked the gods for blessing him with the sight of her. He was even more thankful that Kathleen stole glances his way throughout the night, locking eyes with him for the briefest of moments to share a smile.

The towering figure of Benjen Stark, First Ranger of the Night's Watch, blocked Jon's vantage point.

"This must be on of the dire wolves I've heard so much about," his uncle commented as he ruffled Jon's hair before straddling the bench, joining his bastard nephew.

The two shared a laugh as Jon boasted proudly of Ghost, and his uncle kindly teased him about the amount of wine the young lad had consumed.

"Don't you usually eat at the table with your brothers?" Benjen asked after giving Jon a long look.

"Most times," Jon answered in a flat tone. "But tonight, Lady Stark thought it might give insult to the royal family to seat a bastard amongst them."

Benjen gave a short nod before looking over his shoulder. "My brother does not seem very festive tonight."

"The queen is angry, too," Jon commented in a small, quiet voice. He was eager to share his earlier assessment for neither his father's nor the queen's mood improved as the night progressed. "Father took the king down to the crypts this afternoon. The Queen didn't want him to go."

"You don't miss much, do you?" Benjen gave Jon a measuring look. The boy had grown so much since he had last seen him. "We could use a man like you on the Wall."

"Robb is a stronger lance than I am, but I'm the better sword," Jon swelled with pride as he bathed in his uncle's compliment. "I can sit a horse as well as anyone in the castle."

"Notable achievements," Benjen remarked, hiding the wry smile over his nephew's enthusiasm.

"Take me with you when you go back to the Wall," Jon pleaded. "Father will give me leave to go if you ask him. I know he will."

"The Wall is a hard place for a boy, Jon." Benjen studied his nephew carefully.

"I am almost a man grown," he protested. "Maester Luwin says bastards grow up faster than other children."

"That's true enough," Benjen spoke, a small grimace painted his features. Despite being treated as well as any trueborn child of Eddard Stark, Jon learned his place quickly.

Benjen poured himself a goblet of summer wine, taking deep, long drinks of the fruity ale.

"I want to serve the Night's Watch, uncle," Jon declared. The wine made him bolder. He sat up straight and tall as he made his claim, appearing much older than he was.

The amount of win coursing through his vein was not forcing Jon to make any rash decisions. He had thought long on what was to become of him. Robb would one day be Warden of the North with Kathleen destined to be by his side. His brothers would be great lords of even greater holdfasts, serving in Robb's name. His sisters would marry great Southern lords, birthing little lordlings and knights of their own.

What's left in this world for the bastard, Jon Snow? The Night's Watch was Jon's chance for honor and glory.

"You don't know what you're asking, Jon," Benjen countered. "The Night's Watch is a sworn brotherhood. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons. Our wife is duty. Our mistress is honor."

"A bastard can have honor, too," Jon answered. "I am ready to swear your oath."

"You are a boy," Benjen spoke gently. "Not a man, not yet. Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up."

"I don't care about that." Jon tried to spit out the words as fiercely as he meant them, but they were lost to him as made the mistake of looking over his uncle's shoulder. Kathleen. She sweetly smiled Jon's way before turning her attention back to Robb.

Benjen craned his head to spy the young Lannister maiden that stole his nephew's attention. A knowing smile grew across his face.

"You might if you knew what it meant," he answered. "If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son."

Jon knew what he'd be giving up. It was a life that was never destined to be his - a whisper of a dream that must be retired. It was the only chance to start a fresh life on his own without forever drowning in a promise meant for someone else. A love he must silently harbor that would never be shared or returned.

The stabbing pain his heart for something he'd never be able to grasp, the curse of being born a bastard and the drudge of wine was too much for Jon to handle. Though often calm and collective, his emotions were out of his control.

"I'm not your son!" he lashed out at his uncle.

"Come back to me after you've fathered a few bastards of your own," Benjen stood, placing a hand on Jon's shoulder, "and we'll see how you feel."

"I will never father a bastard," Jon spat, trembling in anger. "Never!"

Only then did Jon realize those around him had fallen silent. Jon stared past his uncle to see Kathleen. Around her, his brothers and sisters laughed and jested, but she was numb to her surroundings.

Her sole focus was Jon. Kathleen could not have heard his exchange with his uncle, but she had witnessed it. She always knew him better than anyone; even after all the years apart Kathleen knew Jon was upset. She could only offer a pained and sympathetic look from the distance separating them. It was distance much farther than a few meters Jon thought, a distance between a bastard and a true Lady Lannister. They might have been leagues apart.

Jon felt the hot tears welling in his eyes as he pushed himself to his feet.

"I must be excused," he muttered, using his last shred of dignity. As he whirled around to bolt out of the Great Hall before anyone could see the tears escape, he fumbled over his own feet. He consumed more wine than he realized. He cursed himself for relishing in the taste earlier.

He lurched forward, stumbling into a serving girl, sending the pair and a flagon of spiced wine crashing to the floor. Jon scrambled to his feet, pushing away the gentle hand attempting to steady him and escaped into the night air with Ghost trailing behind. A chorus of laughter followed hot on their heels.

As she watched Jon tumble to the ground, Kathleen gripped Robb's arm and stood, controlled by only instincts alone. She desperately wanted to run to his side and help her sweet Jon, but she was forced to remain in her place. She knew even her small reaction could prove much too bold.

Kathleen already tested the waters far too much with Cersei, leaving a large wake of damage trailing behind her. If she had any chance of swaying the queen's stance on her betrothal with Robb Stark, Kathleen could not risk any further harm.

She knew it likely was a lost cause, but she had to do anything in her power for Robb's sake. She owed him that much. After sharing their first kiss, Kathleen made a promise. She would do everything in her power to earn Cersei's blessing before the Queen drug her back to King's Landing, likely tied atop the royal wheelhouse.

Despite sneaking an extra glass or two of summer wine, Kathleen was the perfect lady all evening, even keeping her snide comments to herself as her cousin Joffrey boasted to Sansa. It was an easy task with Robb by her side.

The dashing, young wolf, kept her attention all evening, reminiscing with Theon Greyjoy over their childhood at Winterfell. They swapped stories of their adventures during their years apart. They laughed until tears threatened to fall. Ever now and then, Robb dared to touch her hand or brush back a strand of hair from her forehead, wanting any excuse to be closer.

Kathleen thought it was an almost perfect evening. They were only missing her Jon. She made sure to send looks his way throughout the night to ensure her dear friend that she had not forgotten him, but she assured herself Jon was much more content far away from her dreadful cousins.

Jon had laughed, drank and dined with the squires. Every time the two met eyes and shared a smile, Jon looked genuinely happy. That was until Benjen Stark appeared by his side.

Kathleen was not able to eavesdrop over the nature of their conversation, but whatever it was, it rocked Jon to his core.

He once wrote her about his wish to one day join his uncle at the Wall, swearing an oath to the Night's Watch. Kathleen could only assume that topic was brought up that evening.

She tried before to dissuade Jon desperately from joining. Assuring him that his place was at his brothers' side at Winterfell and that he was destined for greater things. She feared he was throwing his life away at the Wall.

In her perfect world, Kathleen and Robb ruled the North in the King's name as Lord and Lady of Winterfell, and Jon would serve by their side. The gods delivered Kathleen a dose of reality that her perfect world would never be, and that she may lose both Robb and Job by the end of the royal visit.

Using all the self-control she could muster, Kathleen slowly lowered herself to her seat by Robb's side, despite how much her heart urged her to run after Jon's retreating form as he fled from his embarrassment.

She noticed the hot tears streaming down his face as he escaped into the night. Kathleen knew Jon for most of her life, and could count on one hand the times she had ever seen him cry. He was a bastard. She was an orphan. Both had to grow up much faster and much stronger than any child ever should. Kathleen was terribly worried about her dear Jon Snow.

Robb scooted closer to her side once she returned to her seat. "It's Jon," he whispered. "I'm sure he is alright."

She couldn't hide her concerned from Robb. He knew how important his half brother was to Kathleen. It was one of the many reasons she stole his heart. She never once treated Jon as anything other than a Stark.

Robb gently took her hand that was still holding his arm tight and intertwined his fingers with her, giving her a comforting squeeze. Kathleen smiled up at her lord with the sweetest smile Robb had ever seen. She was thankful for Robb's comfort even though she was not as sure as he was about Jon's well-being.

Kathleen snaked her hand out of his grip, resting it silently on his leg underneath the table as she turned her attention to her cousins. Following her lead, Robb placed his hand onto of hers once more, locking their fingers together. Neither one looked at each other, but a secret smile played across their lips simultaneously.

Arya noticed the two's not-so-secret affection and nudged her brother Bran. Both sniggered in disgust of young children that weren't impressed by the opposite sex.

"That bastard brother of yours is a clumsy fellow," laughed Joffrey as he lazily drank his wine. "Perhaps I can convince our father to allow him to join us in King's Landing. I need a new fool."

All the Starks, save Sansa, opened their mouths to protests, but a cold, sharp voice cut them to the chase.

"He has a name," barked Kathleen sharply, defending Jon's honor before his brothers and sisters could. Robb had never heard Kathleen sound as mature as she did when she uttered just four simple words. She sounded like a queen.

"Ah, Katy," Joff cooed. "Ever the champion of fools, orphans and bastards."

"A champion of the people," Kathleen corrected. "You should take note, dear cousin. A king that is loved and respected rules longer than a foolish king that toys with his loyal subjects."

"I shall be feared as king," the Prince boasted, smiling smugly at those around him.

"Ask Aerys Targaryen how that play out?" Kathleen retorted just as smugly.

"There's a small detail you have overlooked. When your uncle is the Kingslayer, you have much less to fear," Joffrey mocked triumphantly, expecting to have silenced his cousin.

"Uncle Jamie and Jon could dethrone you without breaking a sweat," Kathleen stressed both her uncle's and Jon's name. She made it no secret she detested the use of the names her prince was using.

"Our uncle is sworn to protect me as a member of my King's Guard," Joffrey countered, making it cleared he was bored with their conversation. "And I would never dignify a bastard by crossing swords with him."

"You aren't king yet," Kathleen made cleared. "Besides," she teased, "it would save you the embarrassment. Jon is three times the swordsman I'll ever be, and the last time we crossed swords, I had you on your back faster than Greyjoy will have that serving girl."

The comment drew a large round of laughter from Theon and the Starks, minus Sansa.

"You mustn't say that to your future king," the gentle Sansa corrected.

"I'm not addressing my future king," Kathleen corrected. "I'm addressing my cousin who often forgets his place."

Joffery straightened up in his seat. His amusement of his cousin's antics was long gone, and he did not appreciate Sansa Stark's help of defending his honor.

"I lost because you cheated," he challenged. "You wouldn't stand a chance in a fair fight."

"Our uncle taught me there are two types of fighting," Kathleen explained. "The first is expected of great lords and knights during duals and the like where rules and courtesies are a scripted dance. Then there is a second kind the type of fighting used on the battlefield where even the small misstep could cost your life."

"If you expect your enemy to bow graciously before his king, prepare for a belly full of spear. I was only teaching you a valuable lesson. One day you may thank me."

Robb hung on ever word she spoke. Her eyes sparked with fire as she talked about fighting. The wildling spirit began to shine through the many layers of nobility her family forced upon her.

"When I sit the Iron Throne, yours will be the first sword I melt down to make a matching foot rest," her cousin challenged.

"When you sit the Iron Throne, I'd advise you watch your back, dear Joffrey," Kathleen smiled sweetly at the blonde prince. "It has been some time since we've had a rebellion. Queen of the Seven Kingdoms does sound lovely. I'll be sure to rest head on my finest spike."

Joffrey choked on the gulp of wine, causing the rest of the table to roar in laughter. Sansa rushed to his side to help her struggling prince. Robb beamed proudly at Kathleen. It took a very bold person, man or woman, to challenge the prince even in jest. Despite the fine clothing and the beauty of maturity, she was still the spirited girl that chased him around the grounds.

Kathleen knew her cousin would soon run to his mother's teet the minute the feast allow to share the "treacherous" words she jested. Perhaps Kathleen let herself revel more wine than she could handle, and she apparently gave herself more credit than she deserved in the matter of behaving.

Before Joffrey could offer an insult her way and make matters worse, Kathleen graciously rose to her feet.

"My dearest cousins, lords, and ladies," she bowed lowly. "As much as I hate to end our evening together, it has been a long day of traveling. I believe I shall retire for the night, but I thank you all for your wonderful company."

Ever the gentleman, Robb stood, bowing in returned.

"Shall I see you tomorrow?" he asked as he took her hand in his.

"As if you could rid of me that easily my lord," she smirked in returned. "Dream of me until you do. Sweet dreams, love."

Robb placed a gentle kiss on her hand as she departed, bowing one last time towards her dinner guests. The younger children teased Robb and Kathleen for their moment of affection. Kathleen turned her attention to the raised table to bid her leave.

"Lord and Lady Stark," she curtsied. "I thank you for sharing your meat and mead. It was a lovely fest. My grace, I ask for my leave."

Eddard and Catelyn Stark smiled proudly down at the young lady. She had grown into a beautiful, strong and smart woman almost unrecognizable to the wild terror that played in the mud with their children, though they did not hear the bold exchange between Kathleen and the crowned prince.

The Lord and Lady of Winterfell spent all evening watching their eldest son in the presence of Kathleen Lannister. The two were a perfect couple and spent the night in a giddy bliss. Catelyn took note of the smiles, whispered and touched shared. Seeing how much in love her son was in Kathleen's presence melted her heart. It would even melt the coldest of Northern hearts.

Robert was too drunk and too preoccupied with the serving girl even to comprehend Kathleen's words. Cersei nodded curtly and waved Kathleen away.

She bowed lowly before disappearing into the crowd the filled the hall. She weaved in and out of the squires and bannerman, disappearing deep within the masses to ensure no one could spot her.

Once she was satisfied she was out of sight from Stark and Lannister alike, Kathleen slipped into the quiet, brisk Northern night, searching for Jon Snow.

Jon was easy to spot in the deserted yards outside the castle. The grounds were empty with the only sound was the faint music and laughter drifted from the warmth of the Great Hall.

Kathleen strode towards his side, but a voice stopped her. Jon was not as alone as she first believed.

"Shouldn't you be inside enjoying tonight's festivities?"

"Uncle Tyrion," Kathleen greeted as she faltered mid-step, leaving her equidistance from Jon Snow and her uncle who was preoccupied with Jon's dire wolf. "I should be asking you the same question?"

Kathleen knelt by her uncle's side, admiring the white pup that almost towered of Tyrion. Her uncle seemed weary around the pup.

Kathleen held out her hand as the pup sniffed it carefully before his rough tongue licked her hand. She gently scratched the animal behind the ear.

"See, Uncle. He's harmless," Kathleen jested. "He knows friend from foe. All he wants is respect."

"I respect the fact that I could easily be his dinner," Tyrion muttered. "Don't think you can change the subject so quickly."

"Aunt Cersei gave me leave to retire to my quarters."

Kathleen eyed her uncle carefully. "I do believe your quarters are inside the castle," he mused.

"Though I'd take the scenic route," Kathleen smiled. "She didn't command me to retire right away."

"Alone in the dark with a bastard," Tyrion commented. "That is how rumors begin."

"They can't be worse than the things that are said when I'm alone with you, dear uncle," Kathleen teased as she ruffled the dire wolf's fur on top his head. "Rumors are told by fools who know nothing of the truth."

"Perhaps I am too drunk to recall ever seeing you this evening," Tyrion called as he drifted away towards the Great Hall. "Don't forget what I told you, bastard."

Kathleen watched her uncle waddle back inside. She rolled her eyes at his last comment. The gods only know what he shared with Jon.

"Don't listen to him," she laughed. "He is a lecherous liar when he is drunk, which is always. Now who is the handsome devil?"

Jon couldn't bite back the smile as Ghost nuzzled Kathleen's neck once she stopped paying him attention. She was right. Ghost was smart. He knew friend from foe quickly.

"Ghost," Jon answered.

Having escaped into the crisp evening air and his surprisingly comforting, but brief encounter with Lord Tyrion, Jon's head was clearer, yet he could not stop his heart from pounding.

For the first time since her arrival, he was finally alone with Kathleen.

"Why aren't you inside with Robb?" he questioned as he studied Kathleen as she doted on Ghost.

"Why are you alone in the dark when everyone else is inside drinking and laughing?" she gazed up at him with her patented Lannister smirk painted across her lips.

"There's no place for me at the feast," Jon answered, turning his attention back to the empty grounds.

"Then there's no place for me at the feast either," Kathleen replied. She stood up, dusting off her gown as she rose. "Suppose I could freeze in the night with you, pup?"

Jon smiled at the use of the pet name she had bestowed upon him long ago. It was a name only she called him, a name he had not heard in quite some time. The title held a special place in his heart, and his spirit soared to hear it roll off her tongue once more.

"Suppose there are worse people to freeze with, kitten."

Kathleen rolled her eyes as he countered with the name he gave her – Kitten of House Lannister. She playfully slapped his arm.

"What is that on your head?" she teased, reaching up to grab a strand of his raven locks, gently tugging it. Jon pushed her hand away not needing someone else to poke fun of his hair.

"I only jest. I like it." Kathleen defended with her hands up in forfeit. "You've grown up, Jon Snow."

"So have you kitten, but I don't believe you've earned a promotion to Lion yet."

"Walk with me," she ordered, grabbing Jon's arm to pull him along and giving him no choice. The two strolled around the empty grounds of Winterfell with just the frigid gust of the Northern wind as their company.

"What was that business with your uncle?" she questioned after a moment of comfortable silence. Jon knew she would jump down to the heart of matter quickly. Kathleen Lannister never wasted time.

"I'm ready to swear my oath to the Night's watch, but uncle Benjen doesn't think I'm ready," he answered.

Jon strolled in the dark with Kathleen on his arm, much like his brother did earlier that evening. Robb paraded Kathleen and his love for her for all of Winterfell to see. Jon's escort would be kept in secret.

"You aren't ready," Kathleen spoke. Jon tensed as she sided with his uncle, but softened as she continued. "I have no doubts you will one day be the finest Ranger the Night's Watch has ever seen, but we're young. The Wall will wait. We must enjoy that while the summer last. You know how I feel about this mess. Your place will always be in Winterfell with your brothers and sisters."

"No," Jon countered, "your place is here with your future lord husband."

A sad laugh escaped Kathleen's lips. "Loras Tyrell would be terribly upset if I remained in the North."

Jon abruptly stopped. The admission stunned him. His sudden halt pulled Kathleen backward towards his side. "Loras?"

Kathleen gazed down at the light snow on the ground, finding it the most interesting subject in the world. "My aunt has promised my hand to the Tyrells and is set to refuse Lord Stark's offer to join our houses."

"Please don't tell Robb," she begged Jon, finally meeting his eyes with tears filling her green orbs. "Not yet. I don't want his heart to shatter a moment before it has to."

"Kat…" Jon began, but he was unable to finish the sentence. He didn't have the words to comfort her. Jon knew better than anyone how much Kathleen loved his brother. She desperately counted down the moments to the day she would be joined to him forever.

Jon couldn't even imagine the crushing blow the news was to Kathleen. He understood the sadness in her eyes throughout the feast, and he admired her strength to put on the happiest of fronts for Robb.

He thought of his brother. When Robb hears the news, his devastation. Instead of remaining in Winterfell to plan their wedding, Robb would say goodbye to his beloved as she returned south to marry another.

"No more talk of the Night's Watch or Loras," Kathleen quieted him. "We have much happier things to discuss, pup."

Jon couldn't stop himself as he reached for her cheek to wipe away the lone tear that drizzled down her face. Their hands met for the briefest of moments.

"You Southern ladies aren't meant for the North," he teased, trying to return her smile. "Your hands are like ice. Here."

He claps his calloused hands, rough from long days of training with his brothers in the yard, around her small, soft hands.

She melted against his chest. Whether it was exhaustion from their long travel or the heartache of her impending future, Jon didn't know or care.

Jon pulled his cloak tight around her to keep her warm and held her close. He couldn't help but think this was the closest he had ever held a woman in his life.

He could feel her heart beating slowly against his and could smell the sweet perfumes in her hair. He tried to quiet the unnamed feelings swarming in his stomach as he held the Lannister beauty tightly in his arms.

"I missed you most of all Jon Snow," she sighed against his chest. "I am a lot to miss," he teased.

Kathleen laughed as she raised her head to stare at Jon with a teasing look. Before she could retort, Jon gently placed his hand against her head, pulling her tightly to his chest as he wrapped her arms around him, returning the hug.

"I missed you more, kitten."


	8. The Dance of Steel

**Hope everyone had an exciting holiday weekend! For a little fireworks of our own, here is the latest chapter of _The Price of Love._** **This one was fun to write, so I hope you all enjoy it! I believe my RobbKat shippers will enjoy ;) As always, be sure to favorite and add the story to your alerts to be the first to check out the latest chapters. Thank you all for the support of the story thus far, and I hope you continue to enjoy! Don't forget to leave a review! I love to hear from you all! :) Until next time, happy reading - trs0010**

* * *

 _Chapter VII: The Dance of Steel_

Arya fled from the tower with a scowl on her long features. Angry tears escaped her eyes as she roughly wiped them away with the back of her hand. Her face flushed a tint of red, a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

She blamed Sansa. Her perfect sister had to steal the septa's attention away from Princess Myrcella for only a moment. At that moment, the shrill septa criticized Arya's stitching. Arya didn't have the patience of the swift, steady hands as Sansa. Her needlework never came out as clean or intricate. Septa Mordane was quick to point out every flaw.

It wasn't fair Arya thought. The gods gifted Sansa with everything. Her eldest sister was sweet and gentle. Sansa could sing, dance, write poetry and even play the harp. Of course, she was graced with their mother's beauty.

Plain Arya favored the Starks with her long, lusterless brown hair and long features of her father. She looked more like their half-brother Jon than any other her trueborn siblings. The only thing Arya seemed to do better than her sister was riding a horse. Arya itched to train in the yard like her brothers. She knew how to shoot a bow and played with wooden swords like her brothers; but when the time came to train, Arya was stuck with a needle while the boys battled in the yard.

 _It wasn't fair._

Arya was frequently at odds with Septa Mordane, but she feared she might have crossed the line that afternoon. Arya rushed out of today's sewing lesson after the septa called out her poor needlework in front of the princess. The youngest Stark daughter's outburst was sure to be met with even more retribution than ever since a member of the royal family was present.

She knew she would pay a hefty price, but Arya wanted to make the most of it. She was in enough trouble as it is. It should at least be worth it. Instead of fleeing to her bedroom where the septa would be waiting or worse, Lady Stark herself, Arya escaped to the covered bridge between the armory and the Great Keep. She knew her brothers and the princes would still be practicing in the yard, and the bridge was a perfect view of the action.

With Nymeria, her dire wolf named after the warrior queen of Rhoyne, nipping at her heels, Arya arrived at the bridge breathless.

She was not alone as she first assumed she would be. Jon sat on the windowsill; he rested his chin against his leg he had drawn up towards his chest. He was enthralled with the action, his eyes following every move and calculating the next attack. He was unaware Arya had joined him until Ghost stirred to greet the new arrivals.

Ghost, larger than any of his brothers and sisters, padded over to Nymeria. He sniffed the wary pup before gently nipping her ear and settling back down below his master.

"Shouldn't you be working on your stitches, little sister?" he questioned curiously.

Arya scrunched up her face. "I wanted to see them fight."

Jon smiled and patted the spot next to him. She climbed upon the window and engulfed with the sounds of thuds and grunts from the action below.

She was disappointed to find Tommen and Bran in the midst of drills under the ever-watchful eye of Ser Rodrick Cassel. He tugged on his great white whiskers upon his cheek as he called instructions to the young lords. Arya had hoped Robb would be dueling Joffrey. She'd love to she her brother drop the handsome prince on his back.

Bran and Prince Tommen were heavily padded that Arya wasn't sure how either boy could even move. Each delivered blows with heavy wooden swords. Both were covered in a layer of sweat and were staggering with every move, locked in their battle for some time.

A dozen or so spectators had gathered around to watch the fight of the young lords, cheering on their respective champions. Robb's encouraging words sounded above the noise. Behind him, Theon Greyjoy, donned in a black doubled with the golden cracken of his house embroidered on his chest, stood behind her eldest brother. Her father's ward looked upon the battle disinterested.

"A shade more exhausting than needlework," Jon observed. "A shade more fun than needlework," Arya countered.

Jon grinned before tousling Arya's hair, almost mimicking the interaction between Ghost and Nymeria. Arya fussed at the mess he made of her braid, but the smile never left her face. She always had a special relationship with her half brother.

"Why aren't you down in the yard?" she asked him. Jon was a better swordsman than any of the Stark boys. He could easily take down the crown prince.

"Bastards aren't allowed to damage young princes," Jon replied with a half smile. "Any bruises they take in the practice yard must come from trueborn swords."

Arya bit her tongue. She should have known and was embarrassed for asking.

 _It wasn't fair._

"I could do just as good as Bran," Arya commented, changing the subject, as she watched her brother whack the younger prince. Jon measured up his youngest sister.

"You're too skinny," he mused before squeezing the muscle in her arm. "I doubt you could even lift a long sword, let alone swing it." He sighed and shook his head.

Jon pointed down to the grounds. "Now _she_ can wield a long sword," he teased his sister.

Arya gazed followed Jon's gestured. Standing midway between the prince's guard and her brothers was Kathleen Lannister. Her raven locks were pulled behind her, weaved in a braid. She wasn't dressed in a wool gown like Arya but was wearing a tight scarlet tunic, showing her womanly figure, with a golden lion emblazed on the front.

Her ruby-studded long sword strapped to her side. Her emerald eyes sparkled as bright as the jewels on her weapon as the studied the action. She offered both Bran and Tommen words of instruction to better their grips and attacks.

When the eldest child of the royal party was not present for that afternoon's stitching lesson, Arya paid no mind. Little had she known that the Lady Lion was in the yard with the men.

Arya felt a pang of jealousy hit her. "Why does she get to be here and not stitching with the rest of us?"

"She had her needlework this morning," Jon replied, not taking his eyes of Kathleen, but a smile played on his lips at his sister's jealousy. "She was in the yard at the crack of dawn training with Ser Jaime. Suppose when you have no parents, you have no one to tell you to report to the septa," he teased.

"But…"

"Kathleen mastered the southern court and the ways expected of a lady," Jon cut Arya off. "She trains hard in those areas and is rewarded with her uncle continuing the teaching her father began. He was one of the best swords in all of Westeros."

"It isn't fair," Arya scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "It wasn't fair that she was orphaned as a child either," Jon countered.

"I don't know why you are all obsessed with her," Arya pouted. "She isn't any different than Sansa."

Arya knew that was a lie. Sansa wouldn't be caught dead in trousers with a sword on her hip, but Arya's feelings were hurt from the septa. She didn't mind taking out her anger on the Lannister lady. Robb and Jon grew up with Kathleen, but Arya was too young to remember the raven beauty's visits to Winterfell.

Arya grew up with the stories her brothers told her about the wild Kathleen Lannister. They always reminded Arya that she was so much like the Little Lion. After meeting Kathleen, Arya wasn't impressed. She was just as gentle, sweet and noble as Sansa. The only difference was the sword. Arya didn't want to be compared to her. Kathleen was nothing like the stories her brothers told. She wasn't wild at all.

"Just wait," Jon smiled. "You'll see."

Arya shook her head, not believing in Jon's promise. She didn't want the sickly, sweet Lannister to be her new sister. What did Robb see in her? She was just as unenthused with Sansa's betrothed.

A shout from the courtyard below caught both of their attentions. Prince Tommen was rolling in the dirt and mud. He attempted to get up, but the padding of his armor made the task impossible on his own. Bran stood over him, aimed to attack the minute the prince returned to his feet.

"Enough!" Ser Rodrick shouted, silencing the laughs from the spectators. Well fought. Lew, Donnis, help them out of their armor." He looked around, spotting his next two combatants.

"Prince Joffrey, Robb, will you go another round?"

"Gladly," Robb smirked as he stepped forward. His brow was damp with sweat from earlier bouts. A proud smile played across Kathleen's lips as she watched her brave lord from the sideline.

Joffrey sauntered into the sunlight to response to Ser Rodrick. Arya had not noticed the crown prince upon her first inspection. He was hidden under the shade of the high stone wall towards the back of the yard. His golden crown and locks were hard to spot as Baratheon and Lannister squires and older knights surrounded him.

The prince wore a padded surcoat with an exquisite shield on the chest. The arms divided down the middle with one side boasting the lion of Lannister and the other the crown stag of the royal house.

"This is a game for children," the prince commented, his boredom evident.

"You _are_ children," Theon Greyjoy barked with laughter.

"Robb may be a child," Joffrey replied. "I am a prince, and I grow tired of swatting at Starks with play swords."

"You got more swats than you gave, Joff. Are you afraid?" Robb challenged.

"Oh, terrified," Joffrey teased. "You are so much older." A roar of laughter spewed from the Lannister guards.

Jon and Arya watched the scene with frowns on their faces. Arya clinched her fists. She wanted to swat the prince herself.

"What are you suggesting?" Ser Rodrick asked as he tugged on his whiskers.

"Live steel," Joffrey smiled devilishly. "Done," Robb shot back without hesitation. "You'll be sorry."

Jon noticed Kathleen tensed and rose to attention as Robb met her cousin's challenge. She looked ready to intervene herself, but Winterfell's master at arms beat her to the punch.

"Live steel is too dangerous," he placed his hand on Robb's shoulder to quiet the Young Wolf. "I will permit you tourney swords with blunted edges."

Annoyance painted Joffrey's face, but he said nothing. A large knight with a scarred face stepped forward and began arguing with Ser Rodrick for denying the future king of Westeros. He was The Hound, Sandor Clegane.

The brunt knight turned his attention to Robb once Ser Rodrick reminded Clegane of his title as master of arms. "I killed a man at twelve. You can be sure it wasn't with a blunt sword."

Arya couldn't help the shiver that went down her spine at his words. Robb's pride was wounded. He was desperate for a chance to defend himself.

"Let me do it," he pleaded Ser Rodrick. "I can beat him."

Ser Rodrick would not budge. "Beat him with a tourney blade, then." Joffrey shrugged. "Come see me when you're older Stark. If you're not too old."

Joffrey's guard of Lannister men laughed again. "Come Tommen," Joffrey ordered. "The hour of play is done. Leave the children to their frolics."

Robb threw curses at the retreating form of the prince as Theon seized the young lord by the arm to keep him from doing anything stupid. The reign of Lannister laughter grew louder, only making Ser Rodrick's face beet-red with fury.

"The show's done," Jon began ushering Arya away when a voice shouted over the noise silencing the yard and making Jon stop in his tracks.

"If you want to dance with steel, let's dance dear cousin."

It was the first time Kathleen had spoken since Joffrey first insulted the Starks. During the melee, she had positioned herself between Robb and the fleeing, smug prince. She had unsheathed her sword and held it at the ready.

"How rich, Stark!" Joffrey called. "You need a girl to defend your honor?" The Lannister men's laughs grew louder. Robb's anger grew, but his furious gaze was sent to Kathleen. She was making matters worse. Jon watched with bated breath as Arya covered her mouth in shock.

"Robb needs no one to defend his honor," Kathleen challenge. "We all witness the beating he put on you. We both know he could easily defeat you with any weapon. Choosing live steel was a wise way to save your honor. You knew Ser Rodrick would never allow it to happen."

Joffrey returned to the middle of the yard. His Lannister pride was too much to walk away from his cousin's taunts. "Ser Rodrick is not my master at arms. You want a battle with live steel?" Kathleen answered with her glistening sword in one hand; her other arm outstretched inviting her cousin on the battlefield. "Here I am."

"My lady," Ser Rodrick interrupted. "I can't allow that."

"You don't have to allow it," Kathleen smirk, still eyeing her cousin. "I still bear the scars of the many hand lashing you left me, Ser Rodrick. A few more won't hurt."

"I have nothing to prove by beating you," Joffrey waved off, ready to walk away. "Because you've never beaten me," Kathleen challenged again.

Joffrey pulled his sword, Lion's Tooth, from its sheath, crossing his blade with his cousin. A buzz spread across the grounds as Baratheon and Lannister men return to their watch. Ser Rodrick grumbled under his breath, knowing he could not stop the Lady Lion. He tried her entire childhood. He always failed.

Robb and Theon exchanged looks, the Stark slightly nervous for his maiden fair. He pulled Bran by the shoulders to the side, never taking his eyes off Kathleen's back. Robb knew of Kathleen's training for years with Jamie Lannister, but Robb had never seen her new skills put to action. Though he had easily defeated Joffrey, Robb knew he was not a pushover opponent.

An excited smile spread across Arya's face. She was finally going to see the famed, Wild Kat. She hoped she'd knock Joffrey in his place. Arya glanced at Jon. His face was still as the pool in the godswood.

Joffrey attacked first as Kathleen sidestepped and defended the strike quickly. Robb let out a hiss at the first blow. He couldn't remember a time he was as nervous as he was then.

Jon was also worried as he watched until he noticed the fire in Kathleen's eyes. He had seen that look before. She was toying with the prince. She was allowing him to strike blow after blow as she parried and defended. The smirk on her lips grew, as did Jon's. She wanted Joffrey to believe he was winning, even allowing near missing that came too close to comfort for Robb.

"Stop them," he begged Ser Rodrick through gritted teeth, but then the game was over. A flip switched as Kathleen began the offensive. Robb's concern melted as he watched with mouth agape.

Kathleen reigned down upon the younger prince. Jon sniggered to himself as he studied her. Kathleen would never out power a knight. She knew that, and Jamie knew that. He trained her in her wheelhouse, which was her speed and agility.

Seconds after Joffrey countered a blow to his right, Kathleen spun to swipe at his left side. The golden prince barely countered. She was pushing him back. She twisted and turned, striking with as much power as her petite frame could muster.

Jon couldn't look away. It was beautiful, almost as if she was dancing. He assumed the look on his face only rivaled his brother. As soon as Kathleen began attacking, Robb's worried scowl melted into his dashing smile, the pride in his eyes crystal clear. He cheered one his warrior princess and taunted the prince. Even Greyjoy was impressed, whooping along.

Jon dared to look away for a moment to gaze at his sister. Whatever doubts she initially felt about Kathleen's reputations were destroyed. Her eyes were wide with excitement. She gasped and awed on cue.

Kathleen's moment of victory was short lived. Just as she raised both arms to deliver what would have been the crushing blow to her cousin, Kathleen tumbled to the dirt.

Jon and Robb both lurched forward. Jon was stopped by the covered bridge, as Theon held Robb back. As Kathleen pushed Joffrey back, it went unnoticed that the prince's guard surrounded them until it was too late.

As the pair drifted towards the Hound, he stuck his giant foot out, tripping Kathleen. She rolled to her side; her face splatter with mud. She reached for her weapon, but the prince's booted foot landed on the blade, forcing Kathleen to accept defeat.

"Good dog," she spat to Clegane. "Now play dead."

"As you taught me, dear cousin," Joffrey laugh as he pointed his blade at Kathleen's face. "On the field of battle, you win by any means necessary."

In a quick movement that shocked even Kathleen, the Prince flicked the tip of his blade to Kathleen's face, slicing her cheek just enough to draw blood.

Kathleen blinked in confusion as she reached for her cheek, almost unsure if her cousin was that bold. As she pulled her hand away, she was met with blood. She looked up at him with a mixture of shock and pride.

Jon clenched his fist. His faced clouded with anger. Arya had never seen her quiet brother as furious as he was with the prince, but the anger softened to concern as he studied Kathleen, praying to the gods she wasn't seriously hurt. He looked at Kathleen the same way Robb did. Then it clicked in the innocent head of a child. Jon loved her.

Kathleen heard the disgruntled mumbles from behind her. "That's enough," came Robb's booming voice of a lord. Joffrey smugly bowed and returned to the Hound's side.

He was quickly kneeling by her side. Robb place on arm gently on her should, the other hand he used to pulled her chin to face him, inspecting her injury. "Kat, are you hurt?"

Kathleen brushed him away as she stood. She sheathed her sword, before striding up to the prince. "Well played, little cousin," she genuinely smiled, extending her hand.

Everyone watched cautiously as Joffrey took her hand. Kathleen's free hand moved the prince closer to her. "Here is your second lesson…"

In a moment that stunned Starks and Lannisters alike, Kathleen swiftly brought her knee up, kneeing Joffrey in his crowned jewels. The prince gasped in pain before slouching down to his knees. Robb and Theon had to cover their mouths not to let their laugh escape, but Arya could not contain her giggle and neither could Jon.

"A Lannister always pays her debts," Kathleen smirked before turning her back on the prince. The Lannister guard quickly surrounded him, helping him to his feet as he spewed curses towards her retreating form.

Kathleen let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. As she passed Theon and Robb, she gave them a panicked look. It seemed even Kathleen surprised herself with her bold move, but she did not stop marching forward.

She did not slow down until she was locked safely away in the armory with Robb on her heels. "Now the show's over," Arya smiled at Jon with her new secret revelation of his feelings and a newfound respect for Kathleen Lannister.

"She'll pay for that one," Jon laughed as he smiled at the armory door where their wildling was recovering. Joffrey may have won the battle, but Kathleen won the war. "You had best run back to your room, little sister. You have your own penance to pay, and the longer you hide, the sterner it will be. You'll be sewing all through the winter. When the spring thaw comes, they will find you with a needle still locked tight between your frozen fingers."

"I hate needlework!" She shouted passionately. She did not find Jon's comments funny. "It's not fair!"

"Nothing is fair," Jon replied longing as he took one last gaze at the armory door before leaving Arya to face the septa and her mother.

* * *

Kathleen sat on top of the armory's table once she was safely inside its walls as Robb leaned against the door. His wolfish grin was not leaving his face. She relaxed, not having to hold her confident demeanor to shame her cousin further. She took a deep breath before dropping her head in her hands, shaking her head.

"That may have been the most stupid thing I have ever done," she laughed. "Cersei may have been thrown off The Wall for that one, so I can join my kind."

Kathleen moaned loudly in displeasure. Her plan on being on her best behavior to win Cersei's blessing had just been thrown out the window in a moment of pride. The queen would never let her marry Robb now. Not after she fought and embarrassed the prince while defending the Starks.

"Just when I think I can't love you more, you do that," Robb laughed.

He walked towards her, standing between her legs. He gently grabbed her arms, moving them away from her face so that he could inspect her face.

"Love, my lord?" she teased. Robb's face flushed in embarrassment as he realized he had said that out loud. "Perhaps," he cleared his throat.

"I would hope so," Kathleen smirked. "I did just risk my life to defend your honor, my lady fair." Robb rolled his eyes.

"You shouldn't have done that," he countered seriously. "If you'd gotten hurt, I'd never forgive myself." He gently traced her cheek, studying the ripped skin.

"It takes more than that prick to take me down," she cooed, washing away his worry. "Besides, you're worth the danger, love." She winked.

Robb could only laugh, resting his forehead against hers. "Does it hurt? I'll fetch Maester Ludwin."

"Only a little," Kathleen relented. In truth, in hurt more than she liked to admit, but she did want rare private moments she had with Robb be spoiled. She knew their days were numbered.

Robb lifted his head to gaze into her emerald orbs. His crystal blue eyes held a glint of mischief she loved so much. Kathleen's tunic and face splattered with mud and blood. Her hair had fallen from its blade and was damp with sweat as well as her forehead, but Robb had never seen her look so beautiful.

He gently kissed her wounded cheek. "Better?"

"Well, my head does hurt quite a bit," Kathleen replied with a shy smile. Robb's handsome smile grew as he kissed her forehead. "Would you believe that my nose also took a beating?"

Robb's wolfish laugh filled the armory before he gently kissed Kathleen's nose. "Do you know where it hurts the most?" she asked. "Right here."

Kathleen pointed to her lips innocently. Robb bent down to meet them. Kathleen wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Robb responded by placing his around her waist.

"You two are pathetic," Greyjoy called as he leaned against the doorframe of the armory. Neither Robb nor Kathleen had heard him enter, but neither one seemed to mind as they didn't break the kiss.

Kathleen only untangled a hand from Robb's auburn locks, flipping her middle finger towards Theon's direction. Greyjoy howled with laughter as he shut the door, leaving the two young lovers in a world of their own.

As they broke their kiss, finding comfort in each other's embrace. The smile on Robb's face could not be removed, but Kathleen was thankful she was hidden by his broad chest and muscled arms. She had to continue the ruse. He mustn't know the truth, not yet.

But Kathleen couldn't help but think how cruel it was that this would be fleeting. That she would soon be whisked away to High Garden to marry Loras. The life, the love, the children she imagined would be saved for him and not the man in her arms like she always thought.

 _It wasn't fair._

She and Robb would marry others, and if she had any chance of convincing Cersei otherwise, she likely just blew. She melted in the warmth of Robb's embrace, the man she loved, but could never have or call her own because of one damned women's need to have control and hold a grudge.

 _It wasn't fair_


	9. A Fallen Hero

**Good evening loves! Thanks for bearing with me. This chapter went out a bit later than I intended, but hope that it was worth the wait! Things are picking up the past here in Westeros ;) Thank you for all the support for the story thus far. I know it has been a tad slow building the foundations and relationships, but keeping hanging in there! Be sure to add the story to your favorites/alerts, so that you can be the first to check out the newest chapters! The next edition should come out early next week! As always, I hope you leave your thoughts/comments in a review! I love hearing from you guys! :) Enjoy and 'til next time, happy reading - trs0010**

* * *

 _Chapter VIII: A Fallen Hero_

Kathleen perched herself on the windowsill, drawing her knees into her chest in the pale light of morning danced across the grounds of Winterfell. The dawn was just waking in the North, and the bustle of preparations began at first light.

She shivered in the crisp air as she pulled the fur blanket from her bed around her shoulders tightly. The thin nightgown was perfect for warm nights at the capital, but not for North. Kathleen didn't mind terribly. The biting cold awakened and refreshed her soul more than the sticky air of King's Landing ever did.

Her uncle Robert loved to hunt, and as soon as the sun rose, the hunting party would break into the chase. Kathleen could hear the stable hands preparing horses and gathering weapons ranging from arrows to spears.

As much as Kathleen loved to practice her weaponry, she could never throw her heart into the hunt. She preferred her prey to fight back. Stalking a stag or boar in silence was dull. Kathleen hated to admit it, but she'd rather refine her needlework than spent days scouring the woods for a rabbit.

Not that it matter much. Kathleen received no invitation to that morning's hunt. Even if she was and desired to go, it mattered not. Kathleen was quarantined to her quarters in Winterfell's South Tower that had become the Lannisters post during the royal visit.

To say Cersei was not pleased when she heard of Kathleen and Joffrey's encounter on the training grounds was an understatement. Kathleen couldn't recall a time she had ever seen the Queen so angry with her. Not even the time she arrived at Myrcella's name day feast late, soaked and splattered with mud from a solo training session came close.

Once Kathleen returned to the south tower, she was sent straight to her room without dinner and instructed not to leave without Cersei's escort. This was only after the queen spent a solid hour of reminding Kathleen why Lannister women should not be wielding swords to start, and how she humiliated her cousin amongst other things. There was plenty mention of how Loras and the Tyrells weren't expecting a wildling brought back for him to marry.

Kathleen only held her tongue through it all. Anything she said would have only fueled the heated situation. With the hunt, Robb, and Theon, and perhaps Jon if Lord Stark allowed, would be gone for most of the day. Kathleen would be left alone with Sansa and Myrcella; being locked away in her room was a blessing.

Though Kathleen hated to admit how hungry she was, she didn't want to give Cersei the satisfaction. Kathleen was a Lannister – stubborn and proud – but the smell of savory sausage drifted through the open window. Breakfast was being prepared, a delectable torture for Kathleen to endure.

As if on cue, her silent prayers to the gods were answered. A swift knock on the door announced a guest, and before Kathleen could cross the room to answer, Jaime Lannister waltzed through the door with a plate loaded with eggs and the tantalizing sausage that teased Kathleen.

"If she sent this as a piece offering, I refuse." Kathleen crossed her arms, eying her uncle and the plate of food in his hands. "I'd rather starve to prove a point than dine like a king in misery."

"Do you always have to be so dramatic?" Jamie rolled his eyes setting the plate on the bedside table. "The only person more stubborn than you is my sweet sister," he mocked. "She's far from relenting. This is our little secret."

A lopsided smirk curled Kathleen's lips. She practically dashed towards the food, devouring it in the most unladylike way.

"Rather starve, eh?" Jaime laughed. "It's the principle of the matter," Kathleen fired back with a wink. "Joff was just a guilty, but I'm serving enough punishment for the both of us."

"The perks of your mother being Queen." Kathleen scrunched up her face at Jaime's comment. Jaime had to admit Kathleen was not entirely wrong and that Cersei may have overstepped.

Both knew better than to duel with live steel, especially Kathleen. Jaime knew she was always eager to teach Joffrey a lesson or two. But at the end of the day, they're children, and no real damage was done. Though Jaime was not going to tell his sister that; picking and choosing his battles, this was one he'd never win.

"Now quickly, eat and dress," Jaime ordered as he stepped out of the room. "We have about an hour before Cersei wakes, and I need to have you back here before then."

"Where are we going?" Kathleen eyed him suspiciously.

Jaime mirrored the same proud smirk Kathleen had donned moments ago. "Training doesn't stop because you are a prisoner of your own stupidity."

Kathleen immediately brightened as she wolfed down the remnants of breakfast. "Ser Jaime refusing to follow the queen's orders?" Kathleen teased.

"I have a documented history of slaying kings and breaking oaths," he fired back. Kathleen frowned at the mention of her uncle's sordid past. She hated when people whispered the phrase "King Slayer" behind her uncle's back.

Jaime laughed at her unamused look. Before Kathleen could hound her uncle for playing into the name he knew she hated and defended his honor like she always would, Jaime hurried her along. "Dress now, lecture me later. Don't make me regret this."

Jaime leaned against the wall across from Kathleen's door, toying with the hilt of the blade on his hip with a smirk tugging on his lips as he waited for his niece to emerge.

He always knew how to ignite a fire underneath her. It became routine for Jaime to tease Kathleen just enough before a training session so that she brought that spunk into their fights. Bringing up the title given to him by Westerosi never failed to do the trick.

The lords and ladies that frequent the court would smile and be as charming as possible to his face, but Jaime knew what they whispered behind his back. There were even few bold enough to say it to his face. King Slayer.

Being the ever-proud Lannister, Jaime took the whispers and name in stride, his dazzling smile and prowess with a sword as enough to hold them at bay. In his darkest moment, it was hard for Jaime to stomach the idea that all of his nobler deeds would be forever overlooked by that one night in the throne room.

Only a handful knew what happened that fateful evening. Only a few even cared to know. Kathleen was one of the select few. After hearing the whispers her entire childhood, she worked up the courage to ask him.

Ever since Kathleen became vehemently defensive against the use of the name. Though Jaime supposed she would regardless of why he slew the Mad King. Kathleen would do almost anything to protect the ones she loved.

She still looked at Jaime as if he had all the honor in the world. No one else did. He harbored that feeling to help him navigate the times without her constant praise. In Kathleen's eyes, Jaime Lannister could do no wrong.

Kathleen emerged from her room in her scarlet doublet with the golden lion emblazed on the chest. Black trousers and boots covered her feet while her ruby-stubbed sword inherited from her father hung on her hip. Her raven locks were tightly braided and pulled away from her face, revealing the scab left from her tussle with Joffrey.

She didn't slow down to wait for him. She marched down the stairs and headed towards the yard. "Keep up, old man," she teased. Jaime scoffed as he followed her lead into the brisk Northern air.

Kathleen took a deep breath once in the yard, closing her eyes to relish the moment. The frost bit into her lungs. Her breath fogged as she exhaled. She missed the cold of the North.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she listened. Her eyes still closed immersing herself in the noise. She heard the slicing of steel leaving its sheath. She smirked. Jaime was not playing games today.

In a swift movement, Kathleen wheeled around, releasing her sword in the same fluid motion. The clang of sword meeting sword rang across the yard as she defended Jaime's attack.

"That was for the old man comment." He lowered his weapon as the two readied for their routine training sparing.

Jaime didn't want to admit that Kathleen was getting better with every session. He didn't want to encourage her ever-growing ego, but he was proud to she the strides she made over the last year along.

He'd put her up against any of the Stark boys. Kathleen's speed with a sword could rival anything, but she had one thing that failed most men in the throws of battle. She could out-think any foe, always two steps ahead, and that could make the difference between life and death.

Uncle and niece steadied their gazes as they circled, sizing up their opponent. A nod for both combatants was the signal to begin as the shrill ring of steel smacking steel roared over the grounds.

Their training sessions were mostly silent. Jaime assessed Kathleen's form and methods of attacks, while Kathleen was consumed with trying to outmaneuver her skilled uncle.

Outside of a taunt when one or the other felt particularly cocky or Jaime seeing an immediate correction that needed to be made, the heated battle was a quiet meeting between lions.

The two spun, dodged, parried and lunged up and down the yard, melting into their own world. In King's Landing, the duo had a secluded spot near the bay where training occurred, leaving only the two. There were never any spectators outside the crashing of the waves below.

If Kathleen or Jaime noticed the few stable hands or squires that stopped to stare for a moment, neither noticed. Both were too focused on the task at hand.

Whether they stopped to see the oddity of a woman wielding steel or to see the famed Jaime Lannister in action for a brief moment neither cared; they forged forward in the dangerous dance that bonded them closer than either ever imagined.

A sheen of sweat formed on their forehands as the battle raged. Jaime noticed that Kathleen's stance was lowering as they continued. Her stamina with her father's longsword was not where it needed to be quite yet.

"It's heavier, so you'll have to adjust the weight and build strength," Jaime called over their clashing. "It will come in time, but now you're much too low. You won't last long."

To prove his point, Jaime quickly slapped Kathleen on her left arm with the broad side of his sword before she could even lift her own to defend properly. Jaime gave her a stiff kick to the stomach to drop her.

It wasn't powerful enough to hurt her, but powerful enough to get his point across. He could have sliced her arm off and delivered a deathly blow. Kathleen knew she had a ways to go before she was truly battle ready with her new prized possession.

As she returned to her knees, brushing herself off, she shook her head with a smile. There was one thing she could always count on Jaime to do when it came to their training sessions; he never treated her like a girl. Why should he? On the field of battle, no one else would give her preferential treatment because of her gender.

He pushed her to her limits with every session. It made Kathleen stronger in more ways than one. Jaime had taught her valuable life lesson over crossing swords. She was grateful he treated her as an equal when they did.

"Seems we have company," Jaime lazily leaned against his sword as he gestured behind Kathleen. As he returned to her feet, she turned to find Robb dressed for the hunt.

He had watched several minutes of their dual, mesmerized by Kathleen's lightning attacks. Jaime noticed him drooling over her very early. Her uncle pushed her a little more than her normally would so the Stark boy could see how lethal both he and Kathleen were.

Jaime couldn't contain the smug look on his face after he delivered the kick to Kathleen. She took in stride as she always did. He had delivered more painful lessons to her, but Robb the Protector was stunned. Jaime wanted the boy to challenge him, but he was smarter than to interfere.

"Ser Jaime," Robb nodded. "I thought I would bid Lady Kathleen farewell before we left for the hunt."

Jaime rolled his eyes. "Make it quick, boy. You're going on a hunt, not to war."

It was no wonder his niece was head over heels for the Stark boy. He was handsome, charming and just as chivalrous as his damn father. It was almost sickening.

Kathleen sheathed her weapon before scurrying over to the young wolf's side. "Before you even ask, I'm fine on both accounts," she laughed, trying to ease his worries about the cut her cousin left and the kick he no doubt witness. "Trust me; I've had worse."

"That's relieving," he teased, sarcasm dripping from his words, as he took her hands in his, not caring about Jaime's prying eyes.

"Just warning you, princess," Kathleen fired back with a smile. "Hope you'll be able to keep up."

Robb laughed as he pulled her closer to him. "Stay out of trouble until I get back," he warned with just the smallest hint of seriousness in his tone.

"Only if you promise to come back," Kathleen countered in the same semi-joking, semi-serious tone. "Always."

Jaime coughed as the two swayed dangerously close to each other, forgetting for a moment they were not alone. "I believe that's enough."

Robb bowed, kissing Kathleen's hand, nodding curtly to Jaime as he left to join the hunting party. Kathleen stared at him as he went, painful longing stirring within her.

"He minds well," Jaime called after his niece. "Is he housebroken?"

Kathleen's face harden as she unsheathed her weapon. She took a deep breath before turning around to face Jaime, still prop against his sword. She determinedly marched towards her uncle, knocking his sword out from under him.

"Let's go," she muttered while Jaime recovered.

Something inside his niece had switched. Kathleen was tense and flustered; gripping her sword so tightly her knuckles were white. The calmed and relaxed girl he had sparred with early disappeared.

They crossed blades. Kathleen, who normally was on the defensive, issued blow and blow with more force than Jaime had ever seen. But she was reckless, blinded by the built-up anger within her.

"You're not going to win that way," he commented. Jaime quickly disarmed her while she went for an overhanded strike, leaving her right side vulnerable. The weapon skidded across the ground several feet away.

"Again," he instructed while motioning to the weapon. Instead of picking up the steel like Jaime expected, Kathleen rounded on him. She threw half-hearted punches against his chest as whatever triggered within her after seeing Robb Stark boiled to its breaking point.

She needed to take it out on someone, and Jaime was the unwilling victim. Kathleen grunted in frustration with every punch until her arms fell defeated to her side. She collapsed against Jaime's chest with hot tears flowing from her eyes.

"Why does she have to be so cruel?" she sputtered through tears. Jaime wrapped his arms around his niece in a fatherly matter, knowing immediately what Kathleen's outburst was really about.

"Believe it or not," Jaime answered. "Your aunt loves you. She only wants what's best for you."

"I can't keep pretending everything is fine," Kathleen admitted. "He doesn't know the truth yet. I don't have the heart to tell him, but this is destroying me."

Jaime held Kathleen at shoulder length, wiping away her tears. "Nothing in this terrible world is fair. You know this better than anyone. The sooner you let the Stark boy go, the sooner you can move on."

"To what?" Kathleen scoffed. "A lie with Loras? Robb loves me. Shouldn't that be enough for her?"

Jaime wrapped his arm around Kathleen's shoulder as he began to lead her back to her room. Their training session suspended for the morning. "You have to think what is best for the family."

"I'm not one of her chess pieces to manipulate," Kathleen spat. "Besides, the Starks are better allies to have than the Tyrells."

"Perhaps, but High Garden fairs better than this dreadful place," Jaime teased, but Kathleen's defeated face did not lighten.

"Father would understand," Kathleen sighed. Jaime squeezed her tighter to his side. It was rare for Kathleen to speak about either of her parents. "He wouldn't let petty indifferences stand in the way of my happiness."

"No, you had him wrapped up that tiny little finger of yours since he first laid eyes on you," Jaime smiled.

They trudged up the stairs, stopping outside of Kathleen's door. "If I'm forced to marry Loras, I will," Kathleen relented, "but if Cersei thinks I'll go along with whatever scheme she has in place, she'll be sadly mistaken."

"Stubborn and dramatic," Jamie laughed, ruffling her hair. "I will speak with your aunt on your behalf, but I can't make any promises."

Kathleen lunged at her uncle, wrapping her arms around his neck. "She'll listen to you. She must!"

"Save your gratitude for if I convince her," Jaime replied, setting Kathleen back on the ground. "Now back to your room before she catches you, and we're both in trouble."

Kathleen winked at her uncle as she slipped away behind her door. "She has you dancing on a string," came a voice down the hallway.

"I wouldn't go that far," Jaime defended as he met his sister at the top of the stairs.

"She has all of you running around doing her bidding," Cersei commented. "You most of all. She's a wicked little bird. She knows exactly what she is doing. She looks at you with those big, doe eyes like you could do no wrong. She's the only one who does. Her hero, her knight in shining armor."

"Well, I am dashing," Jaime smirked. "One day, you'll disappoint her, and her hero will fall. She'll look at you like the rest of them do. We'll see how quickly you'll jump to her rescue then."

Cersei's smug smile painted her face as the pair descended the stairs.

"She learned to play the game by watching you," Jaime commented. "You don't like to admit it, but the two of you are way too much alike."

"She plays it much too well for my liking," Cersei muttered, forcing Jaime to laugh. "You're playing with fire on the matter with the Stark boy," he warned. "Keep pushing her, and she'll take matters into her own hand."

"Why should I relent?" Cersei asked bemused. "Giving her an army large enough to take King's Landing?"

"Are you mad, sister?" Jaime laughed. "Not all girls want crowns. She just loves the boy."

Cersei crossed her arms over her chest not satisfied with Jaime's answer. "All I'm saying is that if you cut her away from the Starks, you'll make one ruthless enemy. One day you may need her help, and it would be much easier if she had a Northern army on her side."

"Perhaps some aggressive negotiations could persuade me," Cersei smirked. Jaime hovered over her lips. "I love when you talk like that."

* * *

Kathleen pressed her ear against the door. Silence. She dared to open the door, darting her head into the hallway and scanning for any signs of Cersei.

Once she determined the coast was clear, Kathleen entered the hall. She straightened out the crimson gown she was wearing, adjusting the fur cloak. She tucked a book under her arm.

As she descended the stairs, Kathleen made a beeline for the door, spying no sign of her aunt or cousins. She barely made it to the freedom of Winterfell's ground when a large arm blocked her path.

"Per order of the queen, you aren't allowed to leave the tower milady," the Lannister guard instructed. Funny," Kathleen commented. "My handmaiden left instructions to meet my aunt in the Great Hall.

"She and Ser Jaime were not heading in the direction of the Great Hall," he countered.

"Would you like to interrupt my aunt to question her instructions?" Kathleen challenged. "When I'm late, I'm sure she'll love to hear which guard hindered me."

He bought Kathleen's dare as he allowed her to pass. She triumphantly smirked as she waltzed around the grounds. Kathleen settled on a small, brick wall near the blacksmith with her book in hand.

Kathleen flipped through the pages to find her spot when she heard some laughter from above her. Kathleen fought the bright sun as she gazed at the tower behind her to find Bran halfway towards the top.

"Didn't your mother warn you about climbing?" Kathleen called with jest. Bran flushed red embarrassed that she caught him. "I suppose what she doesn't know won't hurt her."

Kathleen winked, sending Bran on his way with a wave before returning to her peaceful solitude found in her book. Kathleen hummed to herself as she immersed herself in the weathered pages.

It was her favorite childhood story. Her father read it to her often before bed. It weaved the tale of enchanted prince who falls in love with a peasant and unlikely heroes that always came out on top. The type of story that created the warped, beautiful fantasy she hoped one day life would be. The worn book was one of her favorite possessions. She had read the same story hundreds of times before, but when she needed to hide away from a world where love always won, the book became her long-lost friend.

Midway through her favorite chapter, Kathleen's attention was stolen by a flock of birds squawking loudly from the abandoned west tower of Winterfell. The sound of one of the Stark's dire wolf pups howling soon following.

Before Kathleen could investigate, Jon Snow stumbled upon her. "Kitten, don't tell me you're stuck? It's not even a tree?"

"Such a jester," Kathleen rolled her eyes, brushing off whatever commotion by the tower as one of the wolves chasing crows. Jon settled himself beside Kathleen. "I assumed you'd be on the hunt, pup."

"Spending hours in the woods with your cousin?" Jon mused. "Thank the gods; I'm a bastard." Kathleen twisted up her face at his comment. "You're more than that."

"How's your cheek?" Jon asked, daring to trace the scab with his finger. With Robb away on the hunt, he felt bolder.

"Sting's a little," she answered honestly, "but Maester Luwin shared some ointment that should reduce any scarring."

Jon's hand lingered on her cheek. "Be a shame for anything to ruin something so beautiful." Kathleen flushed furiously at Jon's word. She never expected such a phrase to come out of his mouth.

It was only then that Kathleen realized how close she and Jon were, and she was shocked at how comfortable it felt. She gazes into his dark eyes, trying to label the look she saw in them, not trusting her instincts, but she couldn't stop drawing herself closer.

Both they closed the distance between them, muffled shouts from Winterfell's guard interrupted. They two jumped away from each other, both flushed pink over what almost happened between the dear friends. Kathleen stood as she watched members of the guard rush towards the tower. Kathleen turned towards Jon with confusion. He could only shrug his shoulders, unsure as to what the commotion was about.

Kathleen, as if in a daze, journeyed towards the tower. The dread of what she'd find built with every step. Before she knew it, she was sprinting towards the guards, circling a broken form and calling for the maester.

Kathleen covered her mouth as a loud gasp escaped her lips. An unconscious Bran laid motionless on the ground, his legs twisted and mangled, blood pooling around him. Kathleen stared at the looming tower. She couldn't fathom how far he had fallen.

A glimpse of gold caught Kathleen's eye at the tower's highest window. She blinked her eyes to clear her vision, but whatever she saw had vanished. Perhaps, she imagined it, but the golden blur looked like a very familiar head of hair.

Her heart sunk to her stomach. Bran was an expert climber. Robb always wrote to her about how he drove their mother crazy with the dangerous climbs around Winterfell's stone towers. The boy knew the Northern stronghold like the back of his hand. The likelihood that he fell was slim.

But what if he had help?

It was only in her line of sight for a moment, but Kathleen thought she spied the golden locks for which her family was known. She shook her head in disbelief. He couldn't. Bran was just a boy. He wasn't capable of pushing him out a window.

Was it her fault?

Kathleen guilted him into speaking with Cersei. She should have known better that it would have led to something more. She gave them an excuse to be alone together while Robert was away, and because of her selfishness, Bran laid crumbled on the ground.

Kathleen hadn't notice Jon joining her side until he fought towards his brother's side. Jon held his brother's hand, urging him to wake up until Maester Luwin arrived, pushing him aside.

Jon turned to Kathleen broken with tears in his eyes. For the second two that morning, Kathleen broke down in tears. "Jon, I'm sorry," she choked.

He wrapped her in his arms. He wasn't sure if it was more for his comfort or her own. "I saw him," Kathleen sobbed. "I let him go."

Kathleen couldn't speak out the rest of her fears on why she was responsible, but she didn't have to do so. Jon held her tighter, stroking her hair to soothe her tears. "This wasn't your fault, kitten." He sputtered out, fighting back his tears.

As she heard Lady Stark's broken cry sound across the grounds of Winterfell, Kathleen couldn't think otherwise.

* * *

The afternoon sun was slowing dropping behind Winterfell as dusk began to fall. A grim silence had taken over as news of Bran's fall spread across the North. Lady Catelyn and Maester Luwin locked away in a chamber, desperately doing what they could to spare the boys life. The Stark dire wolves mournfully howled on end; Summer, Bran's wolf, wanted to be desperately by his master's side.

Kathleen sat alone on the stairs that led to the Great Hall. She pulled her furs tight around her shoulders. She was waiting for the hunting party to return. They hadn't heard the news. A rider was sent to retrieve them but returned emptied handed. With the sun setting lower and lower, it was only a matter of moments until they returned.

She picked her head up as she heard the thunder of hooves pouring onto the grounds. Jory Cassel rushed towards Lord Stark's side as soon as he dismounted, sharing the news of Bran's accident. Eddard rushed inside Winterfell to be by his wife and son's side.

Kathleen spied Robb near the back of the pack, a large stag tied to the back of his horse. Kathleen rushed to his side, calling out his name breathlessly.

He smiled warmly when he saw her, wrapping her in a hug and kissing her forehead. "You'd be proud, love," he boasted. "I snagged the biggest game of the trip."

"Robb…" Kathleen interrupted, but Robb excitedly continued to speak about his kill as he untied the beast. "I tracked for a piece before I spotted him. Massive stag. He could have easily gutted me if he charged."

"Robb…" Kathleen tried again but was defeated. "He'll make an excellent supper tomorrow night."

"ROBB!"

He finally turned towards her, his smile faltering. Her eyes were swollen and red, the remnants of fallen tears shown on her cheek. "It's Bran," she choked out. Robb gathered her in his arms. "There was an accident. He fell. I'm so sorry."

Robb held her tightly, much like Jon had done early. "Is he alright?" He dared to ask.

"Maester Luwin is with him now," Kathleen mumbled into his chest. "He believes he may save him, but he'll never walk again. Robb, I'm sorry."

He held her for a long moment as he gathered his emotions, wanting to be strong for her. "If Maester Luwin thinks there is a chance, that's all we can ask for. No more crying, love. It's not your fault."

Kathleen bit her tongue, wanting to scream out that it was. She could have stopped him from climbing. Kathleen could have told one of Lord Stark's bannerman to bring him down. She could have told Jaime not to speak to Cersei, and maybe they wouldn't have been in that damned tower if they were there at all. She wasn't sure.

"Will you be all right if I go to him?" Robb asked, his first concern still being her wellbeing. Her heart broke for his love for her. It was a painful reminder that it would never get to grow.

She nodded, urging him to check on his brother and his mother. He kissed her forehead once more before disappearing inside the Great Hall like his father did moments earlier.

Kathleen wiped away her tears as she headed towards the Lannister quarters. Before she disappeared inside, she spotted Jaime looming near a far wall, gazing towards the heart of Winterfell with a pensive look on his face.

He must have felt her presence because he gazed her way. Seeing his niece so visible heartbroken and upset over the young Stark, was almost too much to take, but it was something else that made him avert his eyes from her gaze quickly.

It was in that brief, wordless moment that Kathleen knew. He pushed him. He couldn't even look at her in the eyes without feeling the guilt, but it wasn't even the guilt of hurting the boy that drove him away.

For the first time in his life, Kathleen looked at Jaime with disappointment and pain in her eyes. She looked at him like the rest of the world did, like the faux hero he was. She didn't look at him like her loving uncle or doubting father figure.

Kathleen fought back the tears as she fled to her room. Her world shattered around her. Her hero turned into a vile, wicked villain for the world to see.

The guilt of letting her down was too much; never in his dreams did Jaime Lannister thought the day would come that Kathleen looked at him as the King Slayer.

The things he did for love was a hefty price to pay.


	10. Give All My Secrets Away

**Good evening, loves. Firstly, quick apology for the slight delay in update. I have just recently moved across country and began a new job, so with all the transition expect a small delay in updates, but I still plan to get at least one chapter out per week. Bear with me :) With that being said, I present a short and sweet ninth chapter. Hopefully it will hold you over until the tenth installment, which will be twice the length and about four times the emotion... bring your tissues ;) Hope to have it published as well as an update for my Batman fic this weekend! Be sure to favorite the story and add it to your alerts to be the first to read new chapters, and as always, I hope to hear from you in the reviews! Love the support RobKat has received so far! Until next time, happy reading - trs0010**

* * *

 _Chapter IX: Give All My Secrets Away_

 _Jaime Lannister cracked open the door of the last bedroom in the East Tower of the Red Keep. The room was on the highest floor of the tower. The "princess" wanted to be able to touch the clouds, so her father moved mountains to make it possible._

 _Now her father's body rested in the sept, and the princess was alone in the world. Her father trusted Jaime to protect her should the worse happen. Jaime couldn't help but think that he already failed that task as he surveyed the near empty bedchamber._

 _Kathleen sat on the edge of the bed, stripped of its linens. Her legs dangled off the edge not touching the ground. Despite being tall for a girl a four, Kathleen appeared meeker than she was as she sat on the massive bed._

 _Though, Jaime supposed, it did not help that Kathleen was slouched, cowering from the weight the world thrust upon her. One day after the news of Kristof Lannister's death during Baleon Greyjoy's Rebellion, Kathleen was moments away from being sent to Winterfell in the care of Eddard Stark._

 _Silent tears streamed down the cherubic cheeks. Kathleen's eyes were puffy from the night spent mourning for the life ripped from her in a moment. She clung tightly to the wooden sword her father had commissioned for her last name day. It was a replica of his sword – the Roar of the Rock – the only thing she had left of him._

 _The sword and the gold chain around her neck, bearing a ruby heart with the roaring Lion of Lannister. Her father's last gift, presented by the Warden of the North, fulfilling a promise he made the dying man._

 _Jaime couldn't keep his promise. He couldn't shield her from the horrors of the world or the selfishness of his own family. Instead of holding her tightly, promising her he'd take care of her, fight her battles, teach her everything her father couldn't, he was there to summon her._

 _Lord Stark was returning North. Kathleen's pony was waiting. Her trunk was packed and loaded. All that was missing was the raven-hair child._

 _Jaime hoped Cersei knew what she was doing, and he silently prayed to whatever gods were listening that his younger brother would forgive him._

 _"Kat," Jaime called, pushing the door fully open to announce his presence. "It's time."_

 _Jaime never considered himself as a man who wore his emotions on his sleeve; but when Kathleen looked up at him with her emerald eyes, a waterfall of tears threatening to flood the room, Jaime felt his heart shatter into a million pieces._

 _"Shush, princess," he cooed softly with a grin, kneeling before her to be on her level. He knew how much she hated to be called "princess." Jaime hoped it would lighten the mood. "No more tears. You are a proud lion. Do not let them ever see you cry."_

 _Kathleen nodded, using the back of her hand to wipe away any sign of them through heavy sniffles. Her lips quivered, betraying how strong she was trying to be._

 _"You have to be stronger than all of us now," Jaime instructed, taking her tiny hands into his. "It's not fair. If I could take it all away, I would. Your days of being a child are over far too soon."_

 _"Did I do something wrong?" Kathleen choked out through her hoarse voice. "Why is she sending me away?"_

 _"There is nothing in the world you could wrong, little bird." Jaime countered quickly. "Your aunt only wants you to be happy, and she fears that King's Landing is much too sad a place for you right now. Do you understand?"_

 _Kathleen nodded, but the confusion was painfully evident in her eyes. Jaime placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Come now."_

 _Kathleen sheathed her wooden sword and stood to the ground with as much bravery as she could muster. Her father was gone. Her mother was gone, and now she as leaving home. The sense of humor of the gods was often cruel._

 _As they exited into the hallway, Kathleen took one tragic look at her room, never dreaming she'd see it again before Jaime closed the door. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. He tried one last-stitch effort to sway his sister, but nothing he could say or do would keep his niece here._

 _The pair walked in silence, Kathleen sniffling, quieting her sobs. It was not until Jaime had reached the top of the stairs did he realize he was alone. No longer by his side, Kathleen had stopped at in the middle of the hall with a terrified look of panic on her face._

 _"What if I never see you again?" she asked in a breathless fear. "Father promised me, he'd come back, but he didn't. What if I don't come back?"_

 _"Don't speak such silliness," Jaime soothed, returning to her side, once more kneeling to her level. "There is nothing on this earth that would ever keep me from not ever seeing you again. I can't tell you when, but I promise you, keep a weather eye out on the horizon. One day, you'll see me, riding to bring you home."_

 _"Promise?" Jaime kissed her forehead, sealing the deal. "Promise."_

 _He took her hand, leading her down the twisting, flight of stairs to the grounds of the Red Keep. To the same spot her father promised her, he'd be home soon, the same place she saw his mangled, lifeless body. Waiting was Lord Stark and the men that escorted him to the capital._

 _Jaime surveyed the crowd. No other member of the family had joined to send Kathleen away North. Jaime wished he was more surprised by that fact than he was as he rolled his eyes._

 _"Stark," Jaime greeted as he led Kathleen to her pony. A stable hand began assisting her. "Take better care of her than you did my brother."_

 _Lord Stark's face darken, but he did not say a word. There was no point in tangling with the King Slayer, especially when his emotions were running high. Too much sorrow, pain, and death had transpired for it to matter._

 _Plus, there was the girl. Kathleen was merely a child, and she had lost so much only to be sent away with a stranger. Why make matters worse? It would do the child no good._

 _Jaime turned to leave, to confront them all for turning their backs of one of their own when her voice called him back._

 _"Uncle Jaime!" she shouted as she sprinted towards him. He easily caught her as she leaped towards him, wrapping her arms around her neck. "You're going to leave without saying goodbye?"_

 _He carried her back to her pony, squeezing her tightly one last time before placing her on the saddle. "We aren't saying goodbye. We never will. I will see you soon, little bird."_

 _Kathleen smiled, fighting to hold in the last tears that wanted to fall desperately. She was a Lion of Lannister. Kathleen was proud. She'd never let them see her cry._

 _"Come along, child," Lord Stark gently ordered, pushing her along with a comforting hand on her shoulder. Kathleen dug her heels into her pony just like her father had taught her and followed the strange Lord towards the city's gate._

 _Kathleen stopped just as she was almost out of sight. She turned one last time, spying her uncle, dressed in his golden armor, watching her slip away from the stairs of the Red Keep._

 _"Promise?" she called to him one final time, her voice carrying over the grounds._

 _"Promise."_

* * *

Kathleen stood, gazing out the open window, not caring about the biting Northern wind chilling her to the bone. She was numb to it. A larger pain was looming.

The south tower was one of the highest points of Winterfell and had the clearest view of the skyline of her distant home. Kathleen could make out the land as the North melted into the very edges of the Riverlands on that clear night.

Tomorrow she would travel that path once more for the final time. The leagues melted away in seconds when she journeyed with King Robert to Winterfell. Kathleen had been so eager to return to the Starks, so carefree and blissfully unaware of how her heart would soon be breaking.

Her plans ripped at the seams. Kathleen was returning her home. The journey one of a funeral march towards a destiny of misery and lies, marrying a stranger and throwing away the beautiful dream she dared to believe she could call her own.

How could she be so blind? So naïve? So stupid? Kathleen had spent the last four years immersed in the games of the capital. She'd studied the best of them, but let her guard down in a moment of weakness. No, she would pay the brutal price.

Kathleen heard the heavy, wooden door creaked open, signaling someone had joined her on the tower's highest floor. She didn't turn around to greet the visitor. She didn't need to do so. The giant wolf brushing against her side gave it away.

Grey Wind plopped down by her side as Kathleen silently scratched his ear. The pup had grown so much so much that even sitting on his haunches; he was almost to Kathleen's hip.

Robb took a moment a drink her beauty as she bathed in the moonlight. Even in a plain, navy gown, she was ravishing. Her raven locks were almost as dark as the midnight sky, but her emerald eyes sparkled like the stars dancing upon them.

He smiled as he watched her gently stroke his dire wolf's head. He had taken up to Kathleen the moment he saw her. He was a smart wolf Robb thought.

"I hoped I'd find you here," he called as he fully entered the room, striding towards her side.

"How's Bran?" she asked in a whisper, still refusing to look at him. Something was hiding in her tone and her eyes, an unspoken worry holding her back. "I haven't had the heart to disturb your mother. I can only imagine the pain she's going through."

"Maester Luwin feels that if the gods were going to take him, they would have done so already," Robb answered, gazing out the window. "But he won't wake up."

"Maybe it is for the best," Kathleen spoke more to herself than Robb. "You remember the dreams we had at that age. Bran will never walk. He'll never be a knight. He'll never fight a battle. The gods cruelly ripped that away from him. What kind of life is that to live? I know better than anyone how miserable it is to see your dreams vanish before your eyes."

Robb studied the broken girl. She had suffered so much loss, pain, and death more than any lady her age should ever suffer. The gods took so much from her way too young. He could not even begin to put himself in her shoes and even understand.

"I have come up to this tower every night since you've arrived," Robb admitted, attempting to change the subject to a happier topic.

Kathleen laughed softly to herself. "This was always my favorite place in the entire castle. When I missed home the most, I could almost convince myself I could see King's Landing in the distance."

"If you told the day your father brought me to Winterfell that one day I'd never want to leave," Kathleen continued. "I'd call you mad. I hated it Winterfell then. I hated you. Never thought I'd be standing in this room preparing to…"

Kathleen cut herself short, not daring to speak the word that was coming. She didn't have to, though. "Say goodbye," Robb finished for her.

Kathleen gazed up at him shocked. Her eyes questioning how he knew and for how long? "Father told me this evening about your impending engagement to Loras Tyrell. Congratulations to you both."

Robb's final sentence came out bitter, revealing his true feelings. "Robb," Kathleen began, but he cut her short. "Why didn't you tell me?"

At his words, Kathleen's heart broke more than when Cersei's delivered the devastating news that fateful night before the feast. The pain of betrayal was evident in his voice, and his eyes showed his heartbreak.

"That is why?" she spoke as she gestured towards his face. "You still had our beautiful dream. I couldn't destroy that. Then we would have spent the entire visit like miserable, lovesick fools, desperately trying to stop something we have no control over. Wasn't it better to believe for one shining moment our lives could be everything we ever wanted?"

"They still can be," Robb countered. "No, they can't," Kathleen smiled sadly. "You know this as well as I, but at least now, we have our moments together that time nor my aunt can steal from us. We can live them when our realities become too much to bear."

"What will happen then? We move on like none of this ever happened?" he asked furiously. "You'll marry a beautiful, Northern lass," Kathleen sighed, her voice wavering. "You'll be the greatest Warden of the North the Seven Kingdoms has ever seen with her by your side. She'll give you sons and daughters and make you happier than I ever could."

Robb tried to stop her, but Kathleen silenced him with a finger on his lips. "She will, and I'll be a distant memory. I'll marry Ser Loras. Perhaps, he'll muster up the courage to produce a son. One day, if I'm lucky, you and I will cross paths. We'll share a secret smile of the dreams two children had."

Robb wrapped her in his arms. "The gods take that life. I won't let them steal you from me again, Kat." Kathleen rested her head on his chest. "They already have, my love."

The sound of Summer's mournful howl echoed across the yard. He called for his master that would not answer. Grey Wind joined him. "Maybe the wolf is in love with the moon," Kathleen mused. "Each month it cries for a love it will never touch."

"So this is it?" Robb questioned, the hint of tears in his voice. "We say goodbye just like that?"

Kathleen listed her head to face him, placing her hand against his cheek. "No goodbyes. Not yet. When the morning dawns, we can speak the words we dread, but we have one night to make perfect. One day where we can still pretend that nothing will ever come between us. Why ruin it with goodbyes that we won't ever have to say in this world."

Robb lowered his forehead to rest it against hers. "Please, don't leave me." Kathleen kissed him lightly. "Why, my lord, I have no plans on ever straying from your arms."

Kathleen gently took him by the hand. "Come, my love." She called, pulling him down on the floor. Kathleen settled beside him, resting against his chest. Robb smiled, taking his fur robe off, laying it over them before wrapping his arms around her. He nuzzled his head against her neck.

The two stared up at the night sky, wrapped in each other arms, sharing their deepest secrets and fears. Robb worried on if his brother would ever wake up, but his biggest fear was failing his father once Lord Stark left for the capital.

Robb would begin to take control of Winterfell, acting a lord in his father's stead. What if he failed? What if he everything his father taught him wasn't enough? Though Kathleen assured and teased him, no lord would ever measure up to a Stark, even one as young and foolish as he.

He spoke of how he'd miss his sisters, even Sansa, and his father, but he'd mostly miss Jon. He wished his father wouldn't send him to the Night's Watch with their uncle, but there wasn't any other way.

Kathleen spoke of her mother. Robb couldn't remember a time that she talked about Rebecca Baratheon as a child. Kathleen imagined what the Lady Stag was like and shared the stories her uncles once told her. Stories were all she had of the mother she never met.

She recalled her father, and the laughs the two shared while training. All the lesson of life and the battle he taught her, Kathleen shared with Robb. How she wished that one day she was as carefree and courageous as he was to defy what everyone expected of him and live her life exactly as Kathleen wanted, but she knew that was a dangerous wish to have.

The lifestyle her father championed to live was what ultimately sentenced him to death.

Kathleen lamented her fears of her betrothal to a perfect stranger. She had only met Loras a court on a few occasions and had nothing more but polite greetings shared with the Knight of Flowers. She was terrified of being locked away in Highgarden alone with a man that would never love her and used as a pawn for her aunt's cruel use.

Then the two played the dangerous game, throwing words of Loras and Cersei to the wind. They imagined their lives together, the future would never be, but a future they would live for over the only night they had.

They thought of their wedding in the Gods Wood with his family present. Kathleen pictured the dress she would wear. Robb planned the great feast he'd throw in their honor.

The imagined their children they'd never have, naming them, picturing the great lords, knights, and ladies they'd never be. Robb would go off to fight battles to keep peace in the North, while Kathleen managed Winterfell as the Lioness in the Snow.

The hours past as the moon waned until Robb lost tracked of how long the two stayed in each other's arms, but Kathleen was right. When the morning dawned and shattered their dreams, nothing would wipe away the memory of that night, holding the woman he loved in his arms, sharing his world with her until he drifted to sleep with her head resting against his chest.

Robb awoke in the tower with the cruel sun mocking him, blinding him as he blinked to see. He was disappointed to find himself alone. His stomach sank. He supposed he should get used to the feeling of waking up alone without Kathleen by his side.

In mere hours, he'd see her mischievous smile, her devilish eyes one last time. He'd hear her melodically voice break his heart as she said the words he never thought he'd hear again.

Goodbye.

Robb noticed a piece of paper in his hand. In the grogginess of sleep, he had not noticed it before. He recognized the swirly handwriting immediately. The same hand had penned him hundreds of letters on perfumed paper over the years.

 _You and I have memories longer than the road that stretches out ahead. Keep them safe, love. Forever._

Robb clenched his fist around the parchment. He steadied his gaze out the window towards the southern horizon where Kathleen once swore she could almost see King's Landing as a child.

"Come Grey Wind," he called to his pup. "We have a departure to halt."


	11. A Beautiful Goodbye

**Happy Saturday, loves. I'm pleased to present the 10th installment of _The Price of Love._ I was planning on making this chapter a tad longer to include Kathleen's goodbye with Robb, but felt that not only did it deserved a stand-alone chapter, but that her goodbye with Jon was perfect alone as well. Bring your tissues for the next chapter as well, because it will be a doozy also! With that being said, be sure to add the story to your favorites and alerts, so that you are the first to read the newest installments. The next update should come next week. I'd always love to hear from you in the reviews! THANK YOU for the support TPOL has received thus far, and it is only beginning! The action will be picking up much quicker, so get ready! ;) Happy reading - trs0010**

* * *

 _Chapter X: A Beautiful Goodbye_

 _Lord Eddard Stark stood on the rocky beach of the Iron Islands, watching the storm roll in across the churning waves. Rain would soon be upon them. A gift from the gods to wipe away the blood split that morning._

 _Lord Stark's shoulders slumped, exhaustion from the endless bloodshed taking its toll. He wiped the sheen of sweat away from his furrow brow. After leaving King's Landing in furious anger at his friend Robert Baratheon for not punishing the Lannisters for their crimes against the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion, Ned did not think he would ever fight beside the Roaring Lion for a common cause._

 _Eddard swallowed old wounds when Robert called him to fight once more. He and Kristof Lannister, the heir to Casterly Rock, marched on the Iron Islands to wipe out the threat of rebellion led by Balon Greyjoy. Lord Stark answered the call of his king and fought alongside The Cub._

 _Kristof earned that title for often being young and foolish, but Lord Stark could not deny the Lannister was brave and did not back away from any challenge. He swung a sword even better than his older brother, Ser Jaime._

 _Though blessed with the golden locks and emerald eyes passed down through generations of lions, Kristof was different than the other Lannister siblings Lord Stark had met, though he did have the infamous prideful mouth than did not shut up or miss any moment to boast. It was something the Warden of the North couldn't quite put his finger on, but he was different than the rest._

 _He had a passion for all things: life, family, war. Only being in his company for a short moment, one could spot his real passion in mere minutes. Kristof's love for his daughter outweighed any of the recklessness and stupidity of his actions. It trumped everything._

 _Lord Stark questioned why Kristof was even here. The way he spoke of the sprite lioness waiting in the Red Keep with her wooden weapons, Eddard was surprised he'd even left her side._

 _He too had left his children that he loved dearly. The call is duty was something he could not deny. If he did not snuff out the threat to the Seven Kingdoms, the lives of his children might be at stake. Lord Stark did not forget what happened to the Targaryen children._

 _Listening to the Lannister boast about his daughter made Eddard miss his pups even more. He had spent so much of his adult life, fighting Robert's wars, and he prayed to the gods this would be the last battle he'd have to endure._

 _The siege on Pyke extinguished the flames. The Greyjoys were master sailors, but Robert's strength was too much for the Iron Born to survive. The king's forced assaulted the southern wall of Balon's stronghold with siege engines, shattering the central watchtower and its surrounding walls._

 _Maron Greyjoy, the second of Balon's three sons, was killed during the breach. Thoros of Myr led the charge through the castle's breach, wielding a sword coated in wildfire._

 _The fighting within the castle was fierce, but with the aid of the Lannister and Stark forces, the king's army prevailed that day. The rebellion squashed swiftly. Balon, to spare his own life, bent the knee._

 _Once again, Lord Stark was to return home from war with a child. To ensure Balon's good behavior and crush any other attempt of an uprising, Greyjoy's last surviving, Theon, was taken hostage and left Eddard's care._

 _Lord Stark smiled faintly at the thought of home. He missed the quiet, comfort of the North, the sounds of his children running through the halls of Winterfell, his beautiful Catelyn. As soon as his wounded were tended and casualties accounted, he'd make haste towards home._

 _"Lord Stark," a voice called from behind him. Jorah Mormont stood several feet behind him; his armor emblazed with the bear sigil of his family. He had fought courageously for the king. No doubt he would be awarded knighthood for his service. "My apologies, my lord. King Robert sent me. Your presence is requested by in the castle immediately."_

 _Eddard turned from the sea to face his company, a look of concern and worry covered his face. His brow furrowed even more. "What news?"_

 _"It's Kristof Lannister, my lord," Jorah spoke solemnly. "He's…"_

 _He did not know how to finish the statement, but as he trailed off trying to find the sensitive words that would not come, Lord Stark knew exactly what Kristof fate was._

 _Eddard bowed his head in defeat. It was not that he had become incredibly close to the young Lannister, though he did respect him and his ability on the field of battle. Lord Stark thought of the little lion waiting in King's Landing._

 _Lord Stark walk past Jorah, placing a hand on his shoulder in gratitude before making the grim journey up the rocky terrain to the broken castle._

 _The wounded and the dead surrounded Lord Stark, the stench of blood was overwhelming, but the sound of those suffering and calling in pain was haunting. It was a sound that never left him, no matter how many battles he fought. Too many lives had been lost over a chair._

 _The Lannister guard looked defeated as he passed, their faces already dressed in mourning. They had failed their captain. As he entered the castle's main gate, his king was not hard to miss in his golden stag helm as he paced in front of a closed chamber._

 _"Gods, Ned," Robert sighed, shaking his head as he hugged his friend, his brother. "They stuck him good. Little Katy, Ned, what do I tell her?"_

 _"That he father fought bravely and died saving the Seven Kingdoms," Lord Stark offered, though he knew his words meant little. It would not bring the child's father back. "He wants to see you," Robert gravely spoke._

 _"Me?" Lord Stark was beside himself. He had not met Kristof until the rebellion, and since the two had barely shared any time outside of battle. "Don't fight it, Ned," Robert ushered him towards the door. "The man's dying. Humor him."_

 _Eddard took a deep breath before opening the chamber. The sickly smell of death clung to the room as he entered, closing the door behind him. Kristof was sitting in a large bed, propped against the headboard. His golden hair and the white sheets surrounding he was soaked red, making Lord Stark's mind flashed to the last time he saw his sister alive._

 _Kristof's handsome features were almost unrecognizable, his nose bashed in his face. A ripped sheet was wrapped tightly around the young lord's waist, trying to contain the blood and organs trying to spill out. His right arm nearly separated from his body._

 _Lord Stark was stunned he was even alive in that condition, but Kristof was a stubborn Lannister. "I still look better than you," he coughed, his voice weak and no longer brimming with cockiness even while joking._

 _Eddard knelt by the dying man's side. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kristof silenced him. "Save it, Stark. We both know only one of us is getting off this bloody island alive. Spare me your fucking courtesies."_

 _Lord Stark nodded. "Robert said you asked for me."_

 _"Trust me; I was as shocked as you were," Kristof joked. "Death makes you do funny things. We have one vital thing in common, Stark. We love our children. I will never see my little one again."_

 _Kristof smiled to himself as he thought of his little lion. The tears pooled as he thought of her waiting on stairs of the Red Keep for him to ride up and scoop her up in his arms, the reunion that would now never be._

 _"I promised her I'd be home by her name day," He bitterly laughed. "I failed her, Stark. I left her orphaned and alone in this world. Out of all the ways, I thought I'd go, never would have picked a fucking Greyjoy."_

 _"You did not fail her," Lord Stark tried to comfort. "You never could."_

 _"Tell that to my sister," he coughed, blood dripping down my chin. "She's not as convinced with my parenting. I have a favor to ask you, Stark." His voice became more serious than Eddard had ever heard it._

 _Kristof reached into a pocket, pulling out a velvet pouch and placing it in Lord Stark's hand. "Robert doesn't love his children the same way we do, Stark. That's why I'm trusting this with you."_

 _Lord Stark opened the pouch. A golden chain fell into his hand. A ruby heart with a lion etched in gold in the center dangled delicately from the necklace._

 _"It's the last present my daughter will ever receive from me," Kristof spoke, but he was no longer on the Iron Islands. He was back home with his little lion. "Promise me; you'll take me back to her and see that she gets that."_

 _Kristof's voice began trailing away as he spoke; his time was drawing to an end. "Tell her that I love her, and that I tried to get home to her. That I'm sorry… that I'm always with her, we both are, her mother and me."_

 _Kristof lifted his left arm a few inches off the ground, motioning towards his long sword leaning next to the chamber door. "That's hers now. Tell my brother it's up to him to train her now and to love her like I should. You got all of this, Stark, or do you need some parchment."_

 _Eddard nodded, smiling slightly at the joke. Leave it to Kristof Lannister to continue to tease him even in dying. "Promise me… for her…" Kristof closed his eyes. "I don't deserve it… but my little lion… tell her… love her."_

 _Lord Stark studied his chest as it rose and fell for the final time. He lowered his head in respect for The Cub. "I promise."_

* * *

Kathleen toyed with the ruby heart that dangled from the gold chain around her neck as she surveyed her empty bedchamber. Her trunk had been packed and loaded to return to King's Landing. Nothing remained but her sword that was lying on the bed.

The necklace had become a safety net of sorts for Kathleen throughout the years. It was a habit for her to play with the charm when she was nervous or upset, especially when she missed her father. It was her constant reminder that he was always with her; he always had a hand in what was to come.

She had to trust him, now more than ever.

She was dressed head to two in black. It was only fitting. Kathleen was in mourning. Her life as she knew it was completely over. Never again would she step in the comfort and warmth of Winterfell and the Starks' company.

Her stomach churned at the thought. How was she going to survive her last few moments in the North? When she left four years ago, saying goodbye was an impossible task and then she was under the impression that she would return in mere months.

How could Kathleen manage to tell the ones she loved goodbye, knowing she would never see them again?

She wiped away the lone tear that escaped. "Hold it together, Katy," she whispered to herself as she took one last look at the room that she called her own over the years. "If you're this choked up over the bed, just wait. Never let them see you cry."

She muttered the last statement, a pieced of advice her uncle gave her when she was sent off to Winterfell for the first time well over a decade ago. She knew there would be no holding back the tears once she saw Jon or Robb.

Seven hells, Kathleen thought, she'd likely sob at the sight of Theon Greyjoy, the last person she ever thought she'd miss.

There was one goodbye that she must check off first. She had not seen Bran or Lady Stark since he was taken to his chamber after he fell. Kathleen was too riddled with guilt to see either, but now she must. It was expected, and Kathleen had respect to her hostess, the adoptive mother figure than influence her life greatly as a child.

As Kathleen traveled through the labyrinth of Winterfell's halls towards Bran's chamber, she was overcome by emotions as the happy memories shared flooded her mind. She passed the spot where she shared her first kiss with Robb. It felt like years ago, despite the few short weeks that it truly was.

She ventured through the Great Hall where they gathered by the fire after dinner to hear Old Nan tell stories of the First Children and the White Walkers. She crossed the by the stairwell that led up the tower to her favorite spot. She spent many nights there as a child, usually accompanied by Jon as the two often shared their longing and tears for the mothers they never knew, forging the bonds of their close friendship.

The place that was once a monstrous and terrifying prison when she first visited became more of a home than King's Landing, filled with laughter, love and friendships forged. Knowing she was walking through these halls for the last time was a numbing blow to Kathleen.

As she reached Bran's chamber, she breathed deeply to steady herself and her emotions before knocking gently on the opened chamber door.

Lady Catelyn briefly tore her eyes away from Bran. She smiled sadly at Kathleen before returning to her son. She looked tired; her face lined with worry as dark circles and bags formed under her eyes. She was thin and looked frail.

Kathleen wasn't sure when the last time Lady Stark has slept or eaten, but by the look of her, the Lady of Winterfell had done very little of either since her son fell.

Bran looked peacefully asleep under the furs of his bed. He was pale and looked just as thin as Lady Stark, but otherwise, Kathleen could not tell he was as severely injured as he was. The blankets covered the pitiful condition of his legs.

"I apologize my lady for not coming to see Bran sooner," Kathleen bowed slightly out of habit, but Lady Stark did not pay her any mind. Her only concern was her son. "I felt it best to give your family time to be with him, considering the circumstances."

Kathleen moved closer to Bran's side, gently brushed his shaggy locks away from his forehead. "I saw him that morning," Kathleen barely spoke above a whisper. "He was a God looking down upon us mere mortals. I lay in bed every night riddled with guilt for not bringing him down from that wall."

"He never falls," Lady Stark spoke mournfully, as she held his hand. Kathleen stomached the blow by her words, biting back another wave of guilt knowing her uncle had assisted Bran off the tower. "I tried for years to keep him from climbing, but he always found a way back amongst the clouds."

"Our prayers go to the old gods, and the new," Kathleen lamented. "The Mother has shown her mercy. He is still with us. It will not be long before he returns to you."

Lady Stark did not answer. She only stared at her son, as if praying and begging to anyone that would listen that he would open his eyes or squeeze her hand.

"The present situation certainly does not make it any easier," Kathleen mused. "I will look after your daughters while at the capital, Arya especially. I believe Sansa will be a natural and fit in better than I ever could."

Kathleen gained a small smile out of Lady Stark. "I promise, my lady, as soon as he awakes, I'll implore my uncle to return Lord Stark and your daughters home to visit you all."

Kathleen bowed and made her way towards the door. "Congratulations on your betrothal," Lady Stark called to her retreating form. "I would have been proud to call you a daughter."

Kathleen lowered her head as her shoulder slumped at Lady Stark's words. "I would have loved you son very much," Kathleen replied without turning back to look at them. "I thank you for allowing me to be a part of his world for what little I could."

* * *

Outside in the grounds of Winterfell, everything was noise and confusion. A light snow had begun to fall that morning, sending an uproar through the castle. King Robert's party was frantically preparing to leave before the storm delayed them any further.

Jon was also preparing to leave in the madness. He and his uncle Benjen were set to depart for the Wall, and Jon would soon take the black and be a sworn brother of the Night's Watch.

He was bidding his farewells that he had delayed until the very end. Jon had said his goodbyes to Arya and the broken Bran lying in his bed much to the displeasure of Lady Stark.

There were only two goodbyes he had left to make, and he assumed he'd find them together. But when stood in the chaos of the grounds as men loaded men and horses saddled, he found Robb alone.

His brother was standing in the middle of the mess, shouting orders. With their father leaving for King's Landing and his mother collapsing in her despair after Bran's fall, Robb had grown into the young lord and leader he was always meant to be. He had no other choice but to do so.

"Uncle Benjen is looking for you," Robb spoke as he spotted Jon. "He wanted to be gone an hour ago."

Jon did not fail to notice the hint of annoyance in Robb's voice, but it wasn't directed at Jon's lateness. It was directed at what both he and Robb had to do, say goodbye to the woman they loved.

"I know," Jon answered. "Soon. Leaving this is harder than I thought." Jon had painful memories of growing up as a bastard, but the good far outweighed the bad. He would miss the only home he'd ever known.

"For me too," Robb spoke, flakes of snow nestled in his hair. Jon admitted that his brother might have had the toughest job of them all. He, their father, their sisters and Kathleen were all leaving him in a matter of moments. Robb would be left alone in Winterfell haunted by their memories. "Did you see him," he asked.

Jon nodded. "He's not going to die," Robb replied. "I know it."

"You Starks are hard to kill," Jon agreed, trying a bit of humor, but the toll of goodbyes was heavy. Robb noticed. "My mother?" he asked, assuming she took out her pain on his half-brother.

"She was… very kind," Jon lied. "Good," Robb answered in relief. "The next time I see you, you'll be all in black."

Jon smiled back at his brother. "It was always my color. How long do you think it will be?"

"Soon enough," Robb promised as his pulled his brother into a hug. They embraced fiercely, neither one believing that Robb's promise would hold true.

"Uncle Benjen said to send you to the stables if I saw you," Robb said as they broke. "I have one more farewell to make," Jon replied. "Then I haven't seen you," his brother winked.

"Do you know where she is?" Jon asked. Robb only lowered his head in defeat and shook his head no, sadden that she had not come to him yet, but there was determined look in the wolf's eyes. He was not ready to give up his Kathleen that easy.

"Farewell, Snow," Robb finally said as he regained his cool and returned to the fray.

"And you, Stark."

Jon turned towards the opposite direction. He knew exactly where Kathleen would be though he couldn't say why she was there and not by Robb's side. He quickly disappeared into the gods wood and found her sitting next to the dark, freezing pool, the heart tree behind her.

She was dressed black with silver fur draped around her shoulders. Her raven hair was braided away from her face, while her emerald eyes clouded with sadness and pain. Leaving was never easy, but it was made especially harder knowing you'd never see the faces or places again.

"I thought I'd might you here," Jon called as he joined her. "I hoped you might find me," she sighed as she rested her head on her shoulder. "This was always our special place."

"We'd climbed those trees," Jon pointed across the clearing. "Hide from Robb and Theon for hours."

Kathleen laughed, but the smile did not reach her eyes. "They would be so furious that they couldn't find us."

She lifted her head to look at him properly. "Is it too late to run and hide?"

"And where would we go?" Jon asked, entertaining her for a moment. "Across the Narrow Sea to the Free Cities," she breathed. "Just you and I. Where no one can tell me who I must marry and where I must go. Where it doesn't matter if you're a bastard, a king or a knight. We can be free."

Jon let him believe for a second that they could flee together, but only for a second. It would be too torturous to let himself drift away from the path they both knew they had to follow.

"You know we can't," Jon answered. "We both have duties. You'll marry Loras. I'll take the black."

She scrunched her face, not pleased with his answer. "Why do you always spoil my fun?"

"Turn around," Jon instructed with a laugh. "I have something for you."

She narrowed her eyes, unsure of what was up his sleeve, but she did as he instructed. He tenderly brushed her hair over her shoulder, before gently latching a chain around her neck.

Kathleen returned her raven locks to their rightful place before delicately inspecting the gift Jon bestowed her. It was a simple, silver chain with a beautiful, white gold snowflake that hung near her heart. A lone blue diamond was attached to the middle of the charm.

It wasn't elaborate or as detailed as the beautiful jewelry her uncles had given her over the years. It was simple and elegant, and perfectly Jon.

"Jon," she spoke in awe as she turned to face him. "It's beautiful. I can't take this."

"You can, and you will," he answered. "I had it made just for you. A little something to remember me."

Kathleen wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close in an embrace. "You know I'd never need anything to remember you by, pup."

Jon squeezed her tightly before standing up, preparing to find his uncle before he delayed their trip much longer. "You don't' have to go, Jon," she began. "You don't have to take the black."

Jon rolled his eyes. He should have known that she would try one last time to dissuade him from going North. "You are destined for so much more than the Wall, whether you see it or not," she argued. "Your place is here. Just think of what you are giving up!"

"To never have a family of your own is a hefty price to pay, love," she said more softly. "You don't know what you're giving up, Jon. You've never felt it. Love is the most beautiful thing you'll ever be lucky enough to have. It is also painfully cruel, but I would rather feel my heart breaking into a million pieces because of love than to never feel it at all."

Jon turned from her and took a deep breath. He knew more about the pains of unrequited love than Kathleen could imagine.

It was no or never.

He took a deep breath of the brisk, freezing air to prepare himself to say the toughest words he'd ever have to say.

"I do know what it's like," he began slowly. "I've been in love once, kitten."

Kathleen felt her breath catch in her throat as she stood up, hanging on Jon's words for an unexplainable reason. "She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he continued, still not turning to face her. "But she'd never love me. She was meant for my brother. She was meant for someone else that could give her the life she was destined to have. A life a bastard couldn't give her."

"I have to take the black, cause I'll never love another," he answered, finally turning to face her. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and a beautifully, sad smile graced her lips.

She slowly walked towards him, taking his hands in hers. "Do not ever think you are not loved, Jon Snow. As cruel as it sounds, I thank the gods that you were born a bastard because that made a difficult decision for me."

She placed a hand against his cheek. Jon thought he had never felt such a tender display of emotion in his entire life. "I am moments away from telling the man that I love goodbye, but instead of spending my last moments in Winterfell with him, I am alone in the woods with his brother. Don't you ever say that I couldn't love you."

Jon felt his breath hitch in his throat, not trusting his ears that the words he had long to hear were indeed coming out of her mouth. "I love your brother, dearly, but I can never give him my heart entirely. Robb may be my true love, but there is something that he will never be. My first love will always be you, Jon."

Kathleen wrapped her arms around him tightly, burying her head against his chest. Jon was too stunned to react immediately, but he slowly wrapped his arms around her in return. "When I was a child, lost and scared in the North, ripped from my family, I didn't fall for the bratty, little Stark boy that would tease me. You were my constant, my only friend. You stole my heart before I even knew what that meant. A part of it will always be yours, pup."

Kathleen reached around her neck and removed her ruby, lion heart necklace, the last name day gift her father ever bestowed to her and placed it in Jon's hand. She put her hand on top of his.

"After my father died, this was the only thing I had that made me feel close to him," she spoke as her eyes drifted away to a happier time with her hero. "On the nights where I was afraid and alone, I'd hold it tight, and I didn't feel so alone anymore."

She looked up at Jon with the tears and love in her eyes. She looked at him the way he thought she never would. "I want you to have it. When you're freezing on that bloody Wall, you'll know that someone loves you."

"Kitten, I can't take this," Jon refused, pushing it back towards her. "I know how much this means to you."

"You're not taking it," she explained, as she tenderly pushed his closed fist back towards his chest. "You're guarding it for safe keeping. It's a promise that one day, I'll be back to retrieve it."

Jon pulled her tightly to him once more, hugging her to him, hoping that somehow it show how much that gesture meant to him and how much he cared.

"When we are on the King's Road, I will not get to say goodbye to you in the way you deserve," she explained. "This will have to do."

She gently stood on her toes and placed the gentlest of kisses on his lips. It was Jon's first. He returned it with the same, sweet innocence.

It was the same passionate kisses that she shared with Robb, but Kathleen couldn't imagine a better to kiss to share with her dearest friend. Jon could barely contain his heart thudding against his chest, as he tasted her soft lips, a gift he thought he'd never have.

Kathleen couldn't contain the spark spread within her as she kissed him. It was a different feeling than when she kissed Robb. Kathleen couldn't debate if it were a better feeling. She always knew there was a deep connection between her and Jon, something she would never have with Robb. He didn't experience the same hardships that she and Jon did as a child. It bonded them together and grew into love.

That was why she was thankful Jon was a bastard because she knew if she ever had to choose between Jon and Robb, it would not be an easy choice. She loved them both in very different ways.

The kiss lasted mere seconds, but he knew that he'd never forget it and that when the harsh winter came, that moment in the gods woods would keep him warm.

"In another world and another time, I'm yours," she whispered.

She broke from his embrace, headed for the tree line to return to Winterfell's ground where she would share another passionate goodbye with the man that held her heart, but Jon could live knowing that a piece of it was his.

He clutched the gold chain in his hand tightly as he watched her disappeared to tell his brother goodbye and break his heart as she did his.


	12. Bring Me Home

**Happy Sunday, loves! It's been a hectic week, so I apologize for the long delay in chapters. Hope you all enjoy the latest addition. Thank you all for your review and kind words! I love that there is a Team Jon and Team Robb division going on! Trust me, it will only grow ;) Be sure to add _The Price of Love_ to your favorite and follow the story to be the first to read newest updates. I hope to hear from you in a review! Happy Reading - trs0010**

* * *

 _Chapter XI: Bring Me Home_

Kathleen blinked away her tears as she stood on the edge of the gods wood. She took deep, steadying breaths, hoping the bitter cold air would help her regain her composure as it bit into her lungs.

Goodbyes were never simple, and Kathleen spent most of her life having to say that dreaded word. Despite all of the hardships she faced during her young life, she never dreamt she'd one day say goodbye to Winterfell.

Once that became a reality, Kathleen had been preparing for the final morning before the king's departure, but nothing could ever prepare for how painstakingly crushing it was to look every Stark in the eye and bid farewell.

Even knowing she would have a few moments with Jon on the King's Road before they departed, her private goodbye with her dearest friend almost destroyed her. It was far from getting any easier.

Kathleen saved her toughest goodbye for last, and now it was the only thing standing in her way from leaving her temporary home for the final time. She held it together for Jon's sake, but she knew she was doomed when it came to saying goodbye to Robb.

Seven hells, how cruel could the gods be? They gifted her with a fleeting moment of true bliss, dangling the future she desperately wanted right in front of her, and for what? To have it all come ruthlessly crashing down around her. How could she ever tell him goodbye?

It took longer for the two children to become friends, spending most of their childhood days at odds as they clung to old rivalries held by their families. They made up for lost time as they grew, and that competitiveness developed into camaraderie, which turned into a passionate young love.

Now that eternal flame was to be extinguished. With Kathleen already nursing a broken heart, her last moment with Robb may ruin her completely.

Kathleen sardonically laughed to herself. If only her uncle Jaime could hear her internal struggle. He would relentlessly tease her for her dramatics, but what else could she do? She was young and madly and tragically in love. She couldn't think of a better time to be dramatic save this moment.

She clenched her fist by her side as a list-stitch effort to move forward towards the destiny she could not battle before she broke through the tree line onto the grounds of Winterfell.

The horses were saddled. The majority of riders were mounted on their steeds, itching to begin the journey South. Final trunks and supplies needed for the trek were loaded. Cersei and her children had already loaded their carriage for the return for King's Landing.

Her horse was saddled and was waiting next to her uncle's warhorse. Jamie was packing last-minute items into his saddlebag with an annoyed look upon his handsome features. He had been ready to departure hours ago, but as Kathleen surveyed, everyone was waiting for her.

She didn't care. She'd make them wait as long as she possibly could. They may be able to force her to leave, but her family could not force her to do it on any other timeline than her own.

Kathleen glanced over her shoulder as the sound of rustling leaves caught her attention. Jon, with Ghost not far behind, emerged from the gods woods moments after her. Jon brushed past her to find Benjen and to prepare to leave, destined for the Night's Watch.

The smallest of smiles crossed his lips as their eyes met. Kathleen returned it, but neither smile lit up its owners' eyes. She clutched her newly gifted necklace to her chest, reliving what transpired in secret earlier; only the heart tree witnessed her exchange with Jon.

Her heart broke from him. He did not have a horrible life by any means, but Jon was a bastard. There were those that made sure he knew his place. Jon was always a quiet, sweet and thoughtful child. He never deserved the life bestowed upon him.

She could only imagine what type of life he would have on the Wall. Kathleen never wanted that life for him; despite hearing for years how much Jon hoped to join his uncle. She prayed to the gods that Jon knew what he was getting himself into with the Night's Watch because there was no going back once he said his vows.

Kathleen had known for some time that something lingered between them that was much more than friendship, but the expectations of their worlds held them back from every acknowledging it. She never labeled what it was. She was always afraid to do so; but when Jon said the word, Kathleen couldn't deny it.

She did love Jon. Kathleen supposed she'd love him for as long as she could remember back during a time when she didn't understand what love even meant. They both knew it would never be. Kathleen fell in love with another Stark child that she could pursue, that she was made to marry. She buried her feelings for Jon to protect him and to protect Robb. Jon did the same.

It was a love that was kept secret from each other and themselves for years until there was no point to hide it any longer. What was the point of hiding it now?

It would never be. Just like Kathleen and Robb would never be.

Kathleen side as she tucked the necklace underneath the collar of her dress. When she lifted her eyes, she caught her uncle Jaime surveying her curiously, while stealing glances at Ned Stark's bastard as if he were trying to put together the pieces.

Kathleen rolled her eyes in his direction, trying to throw him off the trail. The last thing she needed was for Jaime to deduce the nature of her relationship with Jon, but knowing her uncle, he already knew. He had a way of reading her better than anyone else could.

It was then that she saw him. It rooted her to the spot as hundreds of emotions flooded her system at once. Members of his father's guard surrounded Robb. He was instructing them with last minute duties to prepare for their lord's impending departure. He had not caught a glimpse of her yet, allowing Kathleen to take a final moment to drink in the sight of her lord.

Snowflakes nestled in his auburn hair. His icy blue eyes were sharp and determined. The sparkle that Kathleen fell in love with was gone. His voice was sure and commanding as he shouted off orders. He had grown from a boy to Lord overnight, and he had taken to the role handsomely as if Kathleen needed another reason to swoon.

Before Kathleen could rush to Robb's side, a large arm wrapped around her shoulders. "You know, I always thought you and I might get together before it was said and done."

Kathleen elbowed Theon Greyjoy playfully in the side at his comment. She looked up at him with a semi-annoyed gaze, which he returned with his devilish smirk. "You know there still is time, Lannister," he snickered.

Theon prepared for a smack; punch, anything but what Kathleen did next. Instead, Kathleen wrapped her arms tightly against his neck. Theon was so stunned that it took him several moments before he returned the hug.

She could only chalk up her rare display of affection for Theon Greyjoy as to the overwhelming emotions stirred up from saying goodbye to the Starks, Winterfell, and her home. "Gods," she laughed. "I can't believe I'm saying this out loud, but I will miss you, you twat."

Theon howled with laughter, as they broke apart. "I suppose I'll miss you as well, Lannister," he winked. "Keep an eye on him for me," Kathleen spoke quitely as she motioned her head towards Robb. "I swear if you let anything happen to him, we'll see if you're able to swim back home to that bloody island of yours."

Theon gently squeezed her shoulder, deciding to forgo one of his patented comments. "Promise, love." Kathleen genuinely smiled at him for the first time since they had met. "Now, go on," he urged. "He's almost broke his neck four times, whipping it around looking for you."

He pushed her towards Robb's direction. He had witnessed her exchange with Theon, judging by the teasing smile on his lips.

"Didn't think you had it in you," he called as he strode towards her. "You're getting soft, Lannister."

"Save it, Stark," she retorted, but the teasing tone was lost in her voice. "I was almost afraid you would leave without seeing me," Robb admitted as he took her hands in his.

"You don't think I'm that cruel?" she scoffed, trying her hardest to play along. "Not after seeing that," Robb laughed, motioning towards Theon. "I fear you might have saved your best for him. Might be for the best, don't believe the acting Lord of Winterfell should be crying on his first day."

Kathleen's eyes fell as the stared at the cold ground. "I wish you wouldn't do that," she whispered. "Do what?" he asked lifted her chin, forcing him to look at her.

He almost wished he didn't. Kathleen's emerald eyes were dark, like a churning sea, and filled with pain. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, threatening to escape at any moment. "Pretend that everything will be all right."

Her voice faltered as she tried to hold back the flood. It was the first time since this all began that Robb had seen her break down her strong, determined demeanor. He pulled her to his chest; one arm firmly wrapped around her waist as the other cradled her head. "What happened to pretending that this wasn't happening?" he questioned, recalling the night before.

"It was easier when the inevitable wasn't knocking on our doors, Robb," she mumbled into his chest. "We have to answer now."

He held her tighter, trying to shield her from the world. Kathleen was one of the toughest women he knew. He never felt like he had to protect or save her. Even if Robb did, she'd handle the situation herself like she had done most her life. He couldn't recall the last time he had seen Kathleen so openly upset and broken, perhaps not since he first met her during a time Kathleen was still mourning her father's recent passing.

"Don't," Robb warned, holding back his emotions as best he could. "Don't do this." He wasn't concerned about the prying eyes of Lannisters and Starks alike watching the pair. He was overstepping, they both were, being as affectionate as they were on the crowded grounds of Winterfell.

Damned the all. Robb couldn't care about their audience at the moment or what he should or should not be doing with Loras's betrothed. She'd always be his Kat.

"Do what?" she mimicked; lifting her head just enough to look up at him, trails of tears already streaming down her face. "Give up," Robb wiped the escaped tears away with his thumb, leaving it gently on her cheek. "Do not lose faith in us, in me, Lannister. It's all we have left."

"What do you want me to do, Robb?" Kathleen almost shouted in desperation. "Don't leave," he answered assuredly.

"Robb," she cried. "That's impossible." "Is it?" Robb responded with fire in his eyes. "Stay. I will fight every last one of them if they dare to take you away."

"For what?" Kathleen turned from him, leaving his arms. "It will put my family in a delicate situation with the Tyrells and at odds with yours. At the end of the day, I will return to King's Landing, and so would your head on a stake for treachery."

"I would rather die tomorrow knowing you are mine than to see eternity without you."

"Robb…" her heart shuddered at his words. The fierceness in his voice told her all she needed to know. No truer words had ever been spoken. He would die for her here and now if it meant he was dying to keep her.

"Sometimes I wonder if love is worth this pain. If it is worth fighting for," Robb continued, placing his hand on her shoulder, turning her back towards her. "Then I look at you. I'm ready for war."

The wall that was holding back Kathleen's emotions shattered as she wrapped her arms tightly around Robb's neck. "Do you trust me?" she whispered.

Still holding her in his arms, Robb looked at her intently. Something had changed in her voice and her eyes. The defiant spirit that stole his heart had returned. "With my life," he responded with a smile.

"Then know our story isn't over," she answered with tears still flowing, but they didn't seem as sad. "You have to dare to let me go, but I will return home to you."

"How?" Kathleen placed a finger to his lips, and Robb thought back fondly of the first time she silenced him that way. "If I fail," she admitted with real fear in her voice, "this truly is goodbye."

Robb rested his head against hers. "Don't fail." Kathleen stood on her toes and placed a long, loving kiss to his lips. He held her close; deepening the kiss, knowing this may be the last time should her secret plan fell, neither one care about the whispers swirling around them.

"I was made and meant to look for you and wait for you and become yours forever," Robb spoke breathlessly as they parted. "And wait I shall, every night until I see you streak across the horizon."

"Then I swear to make the wait short, my love," Kathleen squeezed his hand gently one last time before she strode to her horse, quickly mounting her ride.

She gripped the reins tightly, taking a deep breath to steady her emotions. "Was all the dramatics necessary?" Jaime questioned as his steed stirred by her side. She narrowed her eyes in his direction, silencing him.

Robb came to her side for the final time, grabbing hold her hand. "I would have given you the world," he spoke, partially in an attempt to seal the goodbye, throwing off any suspicion that Kathleen had anything up her sleeve and partially in fear that there was a good chance he'd never see his lion again.

"I never needed the world," she smiled sadly, trapped in the same battle as he. "I only ever needed you."

She dug her heels in her mount's side, urging it forward. She held on to Robb's hand until the very last moment until distance ripped it away. As she stood at the edge of the gate, she turned around for the final time. She took one last look at the grounds of Winterfell, praying to the gods this would not be the last time.

Robb was standing where she left him. Pain and hope mixed in his eyes. She knew her eyes mirror the same emotions. She was ready for war. She'd claw, scratch and battle tooth and nail to run back to his arms. She gave him the smallest of nods. He returned it with a smile.

They both knew what it meant. It was not goodbye. Not yet. Not if either one of them could help it.

Kathleen urged her mare forward, not allowing herself to look back. She had cried her tears, and that was the only thing waiting for her should she look. She wouldn't let herself have that moment until she knew her plans were defeated and crushed.

For now, all she could do was urge herself forward because that was where her future laid.

She slowed herself as she came to the split in the King's Road, she would be traveling south, but it was here where those going towards The Wall would bid North. It was here where she would say her final goodbye to Jon.

The royal party had already continued its journey towards the Riverlands. Kathleen waited behind as Lord Stark had his last moment with his son. She knew the pain of saying goodbyes to a father, hoping that you would see his smiling face again, but almost knowing deep within; it would never be.

It was only after Lord Stark sped away to rejoin Robert that Kathleen trotted towards Jon's side, taking up the spot that Lord Stark just stood.

"This is where I leave you, pup." She didn't look at him, but towards the North, where the bitter hardships of the Night's Watch await him. I hear my uncle will be joining you for a time."

"You've heard right," Tyrion answered as he trotted his horse towards Jon's opposite side. "I want to see what all this fuss is about."

"Look after him then, uncle," Kathleen smiled as she finally turned towards Jon. "He is precious, cargo."

She smiled at him warmly before wrapping her arms around his neck as best she could while on a horse. "Do not forget, pup," she whispered as she broke away, urging her horse forward.

"Until then, kitten," he called to her forward. She looked over her shoulder; giving him that infamous Lannister smirk for what he hoped wasn't the last time before streaking across the King's Road towards Jaime Lannister's side.

"That is my niece's necklace," Tyrion commented as he eyed Jon. Jon did not realize that he was subconsciously playing with the necklace she had bestowed upon him in the gods woods while he watched her leave. "Curious that you have it."

"I didn't steal it if that what's you're implying, Lannister," Jon spat as he kicked his heels. His horse began to trot towards his uncle Benjen and the future that waited at The Wall. Tyrion matched his pace, as best as his tiny legs could, continuing the conversation.

"It was a gift from her father," he commented. "I'm aware," Jon answered, unsure of where Tyrion Lannister was steering the conversation. "I've never seen my niece without it until now, bastard."

Jon felt his grip tighten around the reins at the use of the word, but he made no comment. "Why do you call her, kitten?" Tyrion asked.

Jon breathed a sigh of relief that one line of conversation was over, but he knew in the back of his mind that Tyrion would find a way to circle back to the point he was making.

"When were children," Jon began, "Kathleen liked to brag when we played our battles. She was Lion of Lannister, proud and mighty, and would never be defeated. She was always a tiny thing, so I told her she was more of a kitten."

"Kitten in size, but lion at heart," Tyrion laughed. "She cares about you, bastard. One of my niece's biggest flaws is trying to protect the one's she loves from the cruelties of this earth. It is an endless battle she'll never win. She never calls you bastard, right? The same way she defends my brother's honor at the use of King's Slayer."

"Where's the harm in that?" Jon asked curiously. "None, I suppose," Tyrion mused. "She sees people for exactly what they are but loves them anyway, always a champion for the broken. Tragic really. Can't say she inherited it from our side of the family."

"To give you that," Tyrion commented, pointing to the necklace around Jon's neck. "She must think awfully high of you, bastard. Perhaps she cares more than she should."

"She loves my brother," Jon answered annoyed at the constant murmurings from the little Lord Lannister.

"A stunning pair they make, I agree," Tyrion replied. "But I wouldn't be so quick to write yourself off. I remember she once came to me in the library in the Red Keep, wishing for a story. She was a bright child and always voraciously hungry for information. So I began to tell her of battles fought long ago for the love of a queen."

Jon found himself slowly down to keep by Tyrion's side to listen to his tale. "I asked my dear niece if she wanted to be a queen like her aunt one day. With all the seriousness of a child, Katy told me no. She wanted to be a Stark. I told her that Robb would be fitting of age to marry one day, but that Bran would be much too young. She crossed her arms and huffed that I forgot about you."

Jon felt the slightest hint of blush hit his cheeks; a tender pain touched his heart. He had never heard this story from Kathleen. Even only a child, she thought as highly of him to include him on her brother's level.

"She's never seen you as a bastard," Tyrion continued. "She's only seen you for what you are – a Stark. Maybe if you had that name, it would be you she's crying over."

Jon smiled slightly to himself. He didn't need the name. He never did. Kathleen loved him for whom and what he was – a Snow. She befriended him. Kathleen cared for him. She kissed him. Though secrets only he knew, it was more comfort than he ever needed.

"Shame, though," Tyrion continued to himself. "She'll never be what she always wanted. What a waste she'll be to Loras Tyrell."

Jon laughed a bit louder than he meant at Tyrion's comment. "What do you find so funny, bastard?"

"You don't know her, do you?" Jon smiled with a wistful look on his face as he thought of his wild kitten. "She'll never marry Loras. She was born to be with my brother, to be a Stark."

"Yet she now journeys back to King's Landing surrounded by Robert's guard."

Jon took a look over his shoulder down the valley that Kathleen and the King's party traveled. He could just make out her raven hair flowing through the wind as she trotted by the King Slayer's side.

"Mark my words, Lannister," Jon knowing smiled after her. "She'll never return to King's Landing."

Jon rushed his horse forward to his uncle's side, leaving Tyrion contemplating his words. The Lannister gazed from the retreating forms of bastard and orphan with a wry smile.


	13. Fly

**Happy Saturday, loves. Hope everyone is enjoying a fabulous weekend. You'll find the latest chapter of _The Price of Love_ below. The actions that set our story into the place truly begins as things start to heat up! Thank you all for your support of Kathleen and _TPOL_ so far! Your favorites and reviews are always the best part of my day! :) As always, be sure to follow the story to be the first to read the latest chapters. I hope to hear from you in a review! Until the next chapter, happy reading - trs0010**

* * *

 _Chapter XII: Fly_

 _Kristof Lannister saddled his magnificent warhorse with a steel gaze. War was approaching once more. The quiet peace that fell over Westeros when Robert Baratheon overthrew the Mad King was interrupted by the rebellion headed by the Greyjoys._

 _The Lannister forces play no role in the battle until the attack on Lannisport. His father, Tywin, Warden of the South and Lord of Casterly Rock, led the defense of their home._

 _Now the King called for Kristof to rally his forces at the capital and join the royal army in its final attack on the Iron Island, putting an end to unrest in the Seven Kingdoms. Kristof couldn't refuse his king. He had married his sister and loved her dearly; Robert was his brother, their houses forever joined._

 _Kristof had many vices, and battles were the largest. He never backed away from a fight no matter how great or how small. Kristof was still reckless and wild in his youth, cocky as was the Lannister way. He delivered on every threat and boast. Kristof was one of the best swordsmen in all of Westeros, and the gods have mercy on anyone who crossed him in battle._

 _He commanded the Lannister forces, leading the charge under his father's command. With his older brother, Jaime, swearing his life as a member of the King's Guard, Kristof was heir to the Casterly Rock and all of its riches and power. His father had sent the call for him to return to his family's stronghold and begin taking command as the future Warden of the South._

 _Kristof wasn't meant to be a lord. He was born to be a warrior. He knew this battle must be his last, and return home he must, if not for his sake, but for the benefit of the center of his world, his daughter._

 _He had held off for so long because she needed to be surrounded by those that loved her most. The time for her to grown into the Lannister she was soon coming. She was his heir, and one day, he would leave everything to his spirited cub. She had to learn what to meant to be a Lannister._

 _Kristof surveyed his armored troops, the prancing golden lion on scarlet banners dancing in the wind. His tightened the sheath around his hip, the jeweled Roar of the Rock tucked safely away. The rubies of the weapon shimmered against his golden armor._

 _It was time to march._

 _Just as Kristof was to give the orders, a bundled of energy came rushing down the steps of the Red Keep to the grounds below to meet the Lannister guard._

 _Kathleen's raven hair was tangled and flowing behind her as her green eyes sparkled with determination as she shouted after her father. Kristof smiled as he watched her. He never knew Rebecca Baratheon as a child; but as he watched his daughter, he had to imagine she was a spitting image of her mother. She had her spirit._

 _Kristof fell madly in love with the feisty Baratheon beauty. She was just as loud and bold as Robert, but with the charm of Renly. Thankfully, she inherited nothing of her twin Stannis. Her heart was large and open with love to spare. She was the only one that could ever rein Kristof out of his wildness._

 _He loved her dearly. When Rebecca died in childbirth, Kristof was devastated, angry and lost. He refused to see the child that stole his love away from this earth. After two weeks, he finally met his daughter. She smiled up at him with green eyes much like his. Her tiny fingers wrapped around his with such force._

 _At that moment, Kristof realized how wrong he had been. Kathleen became the love of his life. He never married again. Kristof never wished for a son. He had everything he could ever possibly need or want in the small package before him. She was perfect._

 _"You were going to leave without me," she accused, bounding up to him. She held the wooden sword he had bestowed upon her on for her third nameday. "I'm ready to fight."_

 _Kristof laughed proudly at his daughter. She stood tall with the sword by her side ready to destroy the Greyjoys all by herself. He would not be surprised if one day she could destroy and lead armies with the passion carried within her tiny frame._

 _"Kate," Kristof knelt to his daughter's height. "May the gods be with whoever crosses you."_

 _Jaime Lannister looked down at his brother and niece from the top of the stairs that led to the Red Keep. "I swear dear brother," he called down to the pair as the joined the on the grounds, "she is just as elusive as you are. The septa claimed she's been missing for hours."_

 _"There's not a time for stitching when there is a battle, uncle," Kathleen defended. "We've been training, father. You said I'm better than half the guard. You need me. Who will protect you?"_

 _"Never was there a better soldier than you," Kristof smiled. "That is why I have a crucial mission for you."_

 _Her eyes lit up in excitement. "You do?"_

 _"With your uncle Robert and I gone, there is no one to protect the Iron Throne," Kristof explained. Jaime coughed to indicate that he was still there, earning a roll of his younger brother's eyes. "Your uncle Jaime is incapable of handling the job. Will you protect King's Landing?"_

 _Kathleen stuck out her chest in pride. "Yes, father." He ruffled her hair before kissing her gently on the forehead. "I knew I could count on you."_

 _He stood, turning back towards his horse, preparing to mount and lead the charge towards the Iron Island, when he heard the sniffle. His brave, little cub tried very hard to hold back her tears, but seeing her father leaving without her was too much._

 _"Must you go?" she asked, her voice shaky, reminding Kristof just how young his child still was despite her strength. "Yes," he said sadly, picking her up gently in his arms, holding her tightly._

 _"When you're older, you'll understand why," he explained. "I have to protect you, and a threat to the king and the capital is a threat to you. There is nothing in this world that would stop me from ever protecting you."_

 _Kathleen wrapped her arms tightly against his neck. "You'll come home, won't you?"_

 _"Always," Kristof smiled, kissing her cheek. "I will always come back to you, love. You look after me as much as I do. Promise to be home by your nameday. We'll have a wonderful feast."_

 _Kathleen kissed her father's cheek, sealing the promise. "Until then, your uncle Jaime will watch after you. He'll continue your training. Listen and mind him as you would with me."_

 _She nodded as he father placed her back on the ground. Jaime grabbed his brother's arm tightly. "You don't have to go," he almost pleaded. "I do what the king demands."_

 _"The king demanded an army. He didn't' demand you lead it," Jaime argued. "You are too dangerous on the field of battle. I used to overlook it as you being young and stupid, but I can't anymore when you have something to live for. What about your daughter?"_

 _"I'm doing this for her, brother," Kristof answered determinedly. "You don't have children. Until you do, you will never understand why I'd march off to death for my Kate. You'd sacrifice everything, lay down all you have to protect your child."_

 _"You're doing this for the thrill of battle and bloodshed, not for her," Jaime threw back. "I thought you'd grow up with fatherhood, Kris. Let Robert fight this with Stark. You no longer need to fight these petty battles. The war is over. You have bigger responsibilities and wars to fight here. What happens if you don't come back? Who looks after her?"_

 _"You," Kristof gripped his brother's shoulder. "Cersei will be her guardian. She needs a mother, and Cersei is the closest thing she'll ever have. Our sweet sister means well, but Kate will need a father more than ever. She loves you, Jaime. Kate looks up to you. Sometimes more than she does me," he scoffed._

 _"Kris, I'm not the ideal choice to be given out fatherly advice," Jaime muttered. "Neither was I until I did not have any other option," Kristof countered. "You care for her. I've seen the two of you together, thick as thieves. Promise me, Jaime. If I don't come home, you'll protect her, love her, train her. Be the father I can't be."_

 _Jaime hugged his brother. "You sound like you already know you're not coming back." "Fatherhood puts your mortality, and sanity, in perspective," Kristof laughed._

 _"I promise, but not make me have to fulfill it," Jaime warned as they broke apart._

 _"Kate," Kristof called to his as he mounted his horse in one athletic leap. "You are in charge now. Keep your uncle in line."_

 _Jaime lifted his niece up to her father for one last hug. "I love you, cub," he whispered. "I love you more, father."_

 _Jaime held her as they watched the gallant and stupidly brave Kristof Lannister lead the guard. His golden hair flew magnificently as his black stallion galloped out of the city._

 _He stood for a moment on the crest of the last hill, looking back over his shoulder to see his brother and daughter for the final time. A half smile graced his lips as she waved farewell._

 _"Will he come home like he promised?" she asked her uncle as he disappeared through the city's gate. "Of course," Jaime answered. He hoped his tone was more confident than his thoughts. "Kristof will come home," Jaime assured her again. "He always does. Until then, we'll come to the top of the stairs at sunset every evening and wait for him to cross the gates."_

 _Kathleen wrapped her arms around her uncle's neck, resting his head against him as they watched the last of the Lannister guard leave the city._

 _"Until he comes home, I'll keep you safe."_

* * *

Kathleen awoke from her uneasy sleep, staring up at the ceiling of her tent. She wrapped her furs around her for comfort, not for warmth, trying the shake the grief that struck through her just as fresh as the day he was taken from her.

Dreams of her father weren't uncommon, but this particular one hit too close to home for Kathleen. Reliving the moment he marched towards the Iron Islands felt too real as if she were transported into time, back to the defining day of her childhood. She did not know it then, but once Kristof left the safety of the gates of the Red Keep, her life would forever be changed.

She sunk into the mattress of her traveling bed. There were no inns nearby when Robert decided to stop for the evening, so the party was camped just off the King's Road somewhere between Winterfell and Riverrun. The images, sounds and forgotten feelings of seeing her father alive for the last time overcame Kathleen.

Why now? Why tonight did she dream that bittersweet memory? Perhaps because of all the goodbyes she spoke earlier that day. Goodbyes that were necessary, but were not wanted. Goodbyes Kathleen never wanted to say.

Another thought struck her, sending Kathleen to bolt upright in bed. What if it wasn't a coincidence that she dreamt of her father's leaving? What if it was a sign from him?

He was faced with a difficult decision to honor the word of a king or stay with the one he loved. He chose his honor, or as some argued, his intense love of bloodshed. It was not an easy choice to leave, but it was a choice he had to make. Staying and leaving his safety and the safety of his daughter up to chance was not something he could do. He would not sit silently and let the king wage a war that impacted something he cherished so dearly.

Kathleen was now faced with a difficult decision of her own. She could honor the duty of her queen, marry Loras Tyrell and live out her days, comfortably, but miserable, in Highgarden. Kathleen did have a second option. She could leave; flee into the night and race back to Winterfell to be with the man she loved.

Her family would not understand why and likely be furious with her decision, just as they were with her father when he announced he was leading the Lannister guard.

Her father couldn't provide her with the fatherly advice and comfort that he was meant to do. He was not there to make the critical decision saved for him. But maybe, wherever he was, he understood her struggle, and could give his blessing the only way he knew how.

She silently stood to her feet with her face set in determination. Kathleen knew what she needed to do. She could not sit quietly by and let her life be decided by someone who only cared about her own fortunes. Kathleen knew where she belonged. She knew the consequences that came with the decision she was making, but she knew the reward outweighed it all.

Her woolen crimson gown she chose to sleep in that evening would suffice. She had no time to change. She must move quickly in the dead of the night before someone notice. She grabbed the black fur cloak she wore that morning, tying it tight around her neck before slipping into her riding boots.

She fastened the Roar of the Rock around her hip before tying her hair back. She gently tugged on the snowflake hanging around her neck causing the corner of her lips to curve into a smile.

Her many gowns and jewels would stay behind in her trunk. They could all be replaced. She packed a leather satchel with what little she would need to make the journey. The only luxury she allowed herself was the wooden sword her father gave her so many years ago. A gift she treasured with all of her heart, a gift filled with memories and love of a happier time. A gift she one day hope to give to her own child.

Kathleen ducked her head out the back of her tent and was met with silence. The fires had all died out. Most of the guard was fast asleep. Those on watch were near the front of the camp; Kathleen could hear their silent murmurs.

She slipped out into the darkness, making a beeline towards the makeshift stables. Kathleen was careful where she stepped, maneuvering around guards that slept peacefully in the open. She knew the slightest misstep or sound would be disastrous.

Kathleen only had one chance at fleeing the camp. No one knew she had any intention of leaving, so guards were down. If caught, Kathleen would continually be followed. Lannister men would be posted around her tent all night. She would never be alone and forced into the life she was desperate to escape. It was now or never, but it had to be done precisely.

She reached the horses, spotting hers towards the end. She placed a gentle hand on its side. "I need your help," she whispered softly to the beast. She untied its bridle and snatched her saddle before silently leading the horse towards the edge of the woods.

Only several feet away from camp and in the darkness and cover of the thick trees did Kathleen allow herself to breathe. She began to fumble in the dark with the saddle as quickly as she could. She would not feel out of danger until she was galloping North.

A snap of a branch made Kathleen freeze. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She was not alone. Her heart raced. Was it friend or foe? All of her dreams were hanging in the balance, but Kathleen could scarcely see in the dark.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Kathleen breathed a sigh of relief, resting her head against the neck of her horse. "Seven hells, you scared me half to death."

Jaime entered the clearing of the woods with a lit torch. It was a strange sight for Kathleen to see him out of his King's Guard garb. She could count on one hand the times she had seen him without it.

"Did you think you could pull one past your old uncle?" he teased. "I've been waiting and watching all night."

"Then you know I have to do this," Kathleen responded as she continued to saddle her horse. With the light of Jaime's torch, she made easier work of it. "My heart will never be in King's Landing or Highgarden. I must return to Winterfell, to Robb. I love him, Jaime."

"I do not doubt you love him," Jaime agreed as he moved closer to his niece. "But, you're just a child. You do not know what love truly means or the price that must be paid for those that have your heart. The best lesson you can learn is the fewer people you love, the fewer weakness you have."

"Is that what happen to Bran?" Kathleen dared to ask, as her eyes darken in the shadows of the flame. She had not spoke her fear, but now she needed to know.

"I would do anything in this world to protect the people I love," Jaime answered, but he did not look at her. "The boy was a risk."

"He is a child!" Kathleen accused. "What if had been me on that tower? Would you have thrown me off as well?"

Jaime did not answer. His face twisted in pain at his niece, the one person on this earth that never look at him in any other way but love, was hurt because of him.

"It was Cersei; wasn't it?" Kathleen asked. "She may not have done the deed, but she forced your hand?"

Kathleen touched her uncle's shoulder gently. "I hate who you are around her. You are better than her. I only wish you could see that as well."

"Love makes even the sanest person drown in insanity," Jaime spoke. "You're trying to run away from a heavily guarded camp so you would know. I would do it again without hesitation if it meant protecting our family."

"Because I love you," Kathleen began as she returned to her saddle, "I can forgive you, but I will never forget what you did. It will be a long time before you regain my trust."

"Why don't I start now?" Jaime asked. "I could have carried you back to your tent myself or signaled the guards. Here I am, letting you saddle your horse in the dark."

Kathleen looked up at him with guarded eyes, his words stirring curiosity. "This is not a game, Kathleen," he warned. "Stepping one foot outside of camp holds heavy weight. Do you realize what you will be giving up? What you will be starting?"

"Kate," he crooned. Kathleen's eyes were filled with tears. Her father was the only one that ever called her that. The name had died with him. "You must be sure this is what you want."

"Cersei will be furious," Jaime began in a fatherly tone, looking his niece in the eyes, making sure the weight of his words went through. "She'll likely label you a traitor, though I'm sure Robert won't take it that seriously, she still holds all your rights. Your father gave her that power. She will strip you of your titles, inheritance, fortune. You'll have the Lannister name, but it will mean nothing."

"You'll put the Tyrells at odds against us for backing on the betrothal," Jaime warned. "Marrying the Stark will put even more of a rift between our families. She'll mark them traitors of the crown as well. I can protect you, but I can't protect him. She'd have his head if she got the chance. You are placing so many lives at stake, including your own."

Kathleen smiled as she thought of the words that Robb said that morning. "I would rather die tomorrow, knowing that he is mine than live all the ages of this world without him. Jaime, you know better than anyone else, you cannot control who you love."

Jaime's face softened. Kathleen's words held more weight than he was ready to digest. He had also assumed Kathleen had heard the rumors that spread around King's Landing, but she never asked. She never questioned.

Kathleen had known all this time about the true nature of his relationship with Cersei. She never turned away in disgust. She never looked at him in any other way than that of a loving niece.

What did Jaime Lannister ever do to deserve such unconditional love?

He thought of what his younger brother told him long ago before he marched off into a pointless battle. Until he had children, he would not understand the lengths one would go to protect them and give them the world if they asked.

Jaime stared down at the raven beauty as the shadows of the flames danced across her face. She wasn't his daughter by blood, but she was the only one he could openly treat as his own. He loved her as he did his other children, perhaps even more since he was able to show it.

"Then run," he instructed as he finished securing her saddle. "You ride in the night. You do not stop until you reach Winterfell. Once inside, your boy will protect you. I swear if he hurts you, I'll be the one that takes his head. Once Cersei discovered you're gone, she'll send me after you. If you are still on the King's Road, I will bring you home. This is your one window of opportunity. Do not waste it."

Kathleen stared at her uncle with mouth agape as her heart swelled with more love than she knew she could feel. "You are going against the words of dear Cersei?" she teased once she remembered how to speak. "You'll be as much as a traitor as I am."

"I have years of experience breaking oaths," Jaime laughed.

Kathleen faced twisted at his words. "No," she corrected. "I know what happened the night the Mad King died. You sacrificed your honor to save thousands. If that is not the most honorable thing a knight can do, I do not know what is."

"You are a hero, uncle," Kathleen finished. "If not to the world, then to me. I know what you truly are. I can only hope to one day be as half as great as you. Perhaps you should try acting like it."

"Maybe I don't need the world to see it," Jaime smiled to himself as he began to walk back towards to the camp. "Only you."

Kathleen grabbed the top of the saddle, placing her foot in the stirrup to lift herself onto her horse. She stopped her herself and looked over her shoulder at her uncle's retreating form.

With the absence of the sound of her galloping away, Jaime looked back to see her staring at him with tears in her eyes. "Second thoughts?" he asked.

"It's real now," she whispered as she placed both feet back on the ground. "Once I return to Winterfell, I may never set foot in the capital again. What if I never see home again? Or Renly, or Robert, or any of them?"

The tears began to spill as her voice cracked. "What if I never see you again?"

Jaime felt a tug on his chest. They have had this conversation before. He knew she remembered it as well. That time, she was a scared girl going to Winterfell only temporarily. Now she was a woman returning to the North for the man she loved.

"Don't speak such silliness," Jaime answered. His voice was filled with unspoken emotions he could not let out. "There is nothing on this earth that would ever keep me from not seeing you again. I can't tell you when, but I promise you, keep a weather eye out on the horizon. One day, you'll see me, riding to bring you home."

"Promise?" she smiled with the tears falling steadily. "Promise. Send the word; I'll come."

Kathleen nodded as love and fear of the unknown swirled around her mixed with the sadness of knowing despite their promise, she may never see the many that became her father ever again. With a broken smile, she turned back towards her horse ready to chase down her future.

"You're going to leave without saying goodbye?"

Jaime's voice called her back. Kathleen remembered being a terrified child running into his arms accusing him of the same thing.

She rushed towards her uncle, throwing her arms tightly around him. He held her close, kissing her forehead. "We aren't saying goodbye," she whispered. "We never will."

She kissed his cheek before returning to her horse, mounting it in one swift motion. "Don't look back," Jaime offered his last piece of wisdom. "I love you, little bird."

Kathleen stopped at the edge of the clearing, "Promise?" She smiled sadly. "Promise," he returned.

"I love you, father," Kathleen returned before disappearing into the trees. Hot tears streamed down her face as another goodbye she never thought she had to make checked off her list, but a determined look settled on her face as she knew she was about to say hello to the life she always wanted. The life she would risk everything to have.

She prayed to the gods, old and new, that she was right, and that Robb Stark was worth it all.


End file.
